Chuck vs The Reprisal (On Hiatus)
by n7agentbartowski
Summary: Chuck and Sarah left the spy life behind a long time ago to start a family. Nearly eighteen years pass before a ghost from the past comes back to haunt them. Now not only Chuck, but his children, are pulled back into the spy game. In a twist of events, the future of their family relies on the Bartowski kids. Some heroes are born great, some heroes are made great. Some are both.
1. Prologue

_I'm back! Hello, how are you? Welcome to Chuck vs The Reprisal. Or more accurately, the prologue of what will be a very different type of Chuck story. This story is set in the same universe as that of my previous fic, Losing Your Memory, however it is not necessary to have read that one before jumping into this one. I will say, however, that occasional references to that story will be included and the villain of this fic has a strong connection to the one in LYM. Once again, it should all be explained as the story progresses, but having previous knowledge of the original story will certainly be helpful! What can be explained now is that the villain in this story has a personal connection with the villain that Chuck and Sarah dealt with in Losing Your Memory. Boom! All caught up._

 _Let me also say this before we begin. This is not so much a Chuck and Sarah story as it is a Chuck story, that is, one set in the Chuck universe, focused mostly on the spy aspect and adventure of the show. Not only that, but this story will include a significant time skip and will focus on a cast of original characters. This is not to say that the original characters will not play a large role, as they certainly will, but this story is not really about them. This is for all intents and purposes, a story about the next generation. I understand that may not be the most appealing type of story but it's one I've wanted to tell for a long time so I'm taking the risk! I hope you give it a chance. Thanks to **michaelfmx** for beta-ing this for me._

 _Let's begin._

* * *

 **August 17, 2013, Westside Medical Center, Burbank, CA: 2200 Hours**

Up until this moment, Chuck felt like he'd been a part of a dream. A very stressful, very tiresome and physically damaging, eleven-hour dream. When they'd first arrived at the hospital, Chuck had been convinced that things were going to go smoothly. A nurse had administered Sarah an epidural and then left the two of them to get comfy while things progressed. Sarah had complained that she didn't feel it at first, then a moment later she was staring at him with slightly unfocused eyes.

"You…feeling okay?" Chuck asked a little nervously. He was entirely out of his element. "Do you want me to grab the nurse?"

Sarah's eyes wandered away from his face and down the red collared shirt he wore. "You look really sexy in red…Have I ever told you that?"

Chuck's cheeks began to burn and he was incredibly grateful that they were currently alone in the room. "Er…Yes. You may have on….a few occasions."

Sarah smirked, seemingly pleased with herself. Her speech was slurred when she spoke again. "Good, 'cuz you do." She reached out for him with one hand and he took a few steps closer, until he was pressed up against the side of the bed. Sarah ran one hand down the front of his shirt and smiled at him again, this time with a coy flutter of her eyelashes.

"Honey, I'm so flattered by the attention right now, I really am," he said, gently moving her hand away from where it was straying. "But can we focus on _having_ the baby before we think about the…. making the baby part again?"

Sarah pursed her lips in a pout, but eventually relented. Not a moment too soon, either, because the nurse returned to make sure she was comfortable. Chuck relaxed, thinking he was safe from her drug-induced seduction, until he felt a pinch on his rear when the nurse was busy checking some nearby monitors. He stifled a yelp and whirled around to silently admonish Sarah, who met his offended expression with a drowsy grin.

Unfortunately, the relaxed atmosphere didn't last long. The doctor came into the room and examined Sarah again, determining that the time had come to remove the epidural, since Sarah would need to be able to feel the muscles in her lower body for the delivery. As soon as the nurses took Sarah off of her epidural, things began to spiral into chaos. At least on Chuck's end. He offered to hold her hand as the contractions intensified, regretting it the moment the first really intense one hit her. Sarah squeezed his hand so hard that Chuck was sure she'd broken his fingers.

When it passed, Sarah glanced worriedly at the nurse, Chuck's hand still trapped in her own. "They get worse?" she asked, and the nurse gave her a slightly amused, but mostly sympathetic smile.

"Unfortunately. But you're close," she replied. "You won't have to deal with them for much longer. Just remember to breath, keep calm, and squeeze the hell out of his hand whenever you need to." She laughed and smiled knowingly at Chuck, who could only grimace in response. The contractions continued to come at a steady pace and each time Chuck felt his stomach drop with dread, knowing his fingers were coming closer and closer to being snapped off his hand.

"Chuck! How am I supposed to….?" Sarah paused, trying to ride out the pain and picking up her sentence as soon as it had passed. "I've been through torture that was worse than this!"

Chuck glanced at the nurse, who was giving Sarah a confused look. He chuckled nervously and stroked her arm, muttering loud enough for the nurse to hear, "Um…You meant figurative torture, right honey?"

"Shut up," Sarah growled. And Chuck did. He didn't like to fight with Sarah, even on a good day. Mostly because he usually lost…. badly. But on a bad one? He might actually lose a limb…. Or worse. As if she could read his thoughts, Sarah narrowed her eyes at him when another contraction came and ground out through her teeth, "I swear to god, if you ever come near me after this is over... I'll…..," Chuck didn't want to hear the rest of the threat but it came anyway, "I will personally make sure _you_ can never have any more children."

The nurse's eyebrows bounced upwards and her mouth twisted when she tried to stifle a chuckle. Chuck swallowed and shot the nurse an affronted glance. She cleared her throat and busied herself with checking Sarah's vitals again. Chuck didn't know if Sarah would follow through on that threat. She had to be joking…. Right? But, then again, he had never actually seen this look in her eyes before. He decided he wasn't eager to find out.

"I'm just gonna grab a cool towel for you, honey," he said, trying to pry his hand from her death grip. The towel gave him an excuse for a brief respite and besides that, Sarah looked like she needed it. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, strands of her hair falling out of the bun they'd tied her hair back with. He was surprised when Sarah yanked him back into place beside the bed.

"You don't leave my side, got it?" Her voice was dangerously low, but Chuck saw a genuine flash of fear in her eyes. Releasing that his wife's anxiety was coming out as anger, he calmed and nodded resolutely.

"I'm not going anywhere." One of the other nurses was kind enough to bring Chuck a towel so that he didn't have to move, and he gently began wiping away the sweat from Sarah's brow. He saw the tremble in her lips and the tears glistening in her eyes and decided to sooth her by talking. He was good at talking. Rambling, actually. And for once, the dozens of mindless words he could spout at once were coming in handy, as they seemed to calm Sarah and ease her through her contractions that were coming more frequently now. He talked about the days before they'd gotten together. He told her stories of his bachelor days with Morgan and his nerdy ones at Stanford. He talked until the doctor arrived and told them it was time.

"Ok, Sarah, are you ready to push?" the doctor asked. Immediately, the calm that had come over Sarah vanished, and she stared up at him with a look of helplessness that Chuck had never seen before. Chuck knew she needed him to be strong and calm, now more than ever before, so he tried to meet her eyes as he stroked back her hair. But Sarah's gaze began flicking around the room in a panic, almost like she was looking for a way out, which struck Chuck as a little amusing, given the situation, but he held in his chuckle.

"Baby, look at me," Chuck said soothingly, drawing his fingers along her jaw. Sarah looked back up at him and he lowered his head so his mouth was right next to her ear. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered. "And you're ready for this. We're ready for this. Just remember your breathing and listen to the doctor. You're the toughest woman I've ever met. You've got this."

He pulled back and smiled at her, nodding encouragingly. Sarah stared at him for a moment longer, absorbing his words and then she returned his nod. Once Sarah calmed, she re-focused on the doctor, who gave Chuck a wink, a smile and a thumbs up.

What happened next was almost a blur, Chuck was too focused on the pain in his constricted hand to pay attention to much of what the nurses and doctor were saying. He heard the repeated command of 'push', and the pain in his hand made him wonder if he was going to pass out. Deciding that losing consciousness in front of his wife and room full of hospital staff in the middle of the birth of his first child wasn't something he was eager to do, he steeled himself and put his energy into comforting Sarah the best he knew how. He held her hand tightly, squeezed her shoulder with his other hand, and echoed the final 'push' with the doctor and nurse, and then it was over.

The moment he heard his baby cry for the first time, reality hit him like a sledgehammer, and he began to shake. The baby's cries were so sharp, so loud. Was he alright? Was he in pain? Chuck realized, as he had these thoughts, that he wasn't actually sure of the baby's gender. He and Sarah had opted to be surprised when the time came. Well, the time had finally come and he was still defaulting to 'he'.

Managing to find his voice, Chuck squeaked, "Is he alright?"

" _She_ ," the nurse corrected, taking the small, squirming baby into her arms and towards the care station where she would be cleaned off. "Is just fine." Chuck felt the tension drain from his shoulders, although the baby's cries still sent shivers down his spine. He turned his attention back to Sarah, who was practically glowing, looking more beautiful to Chuck than she ever had before. She looked up at him, smiling weakly and trying to catch her breath. He knew if he told her how beautiful she looked that she'd only deny it. But she was, and she looked far better than any woman who had been in labor for over eleven hours had the right to. He leaned down and pressed his lips into her hair, his hand still clasped tightly in her own. He'd lost all feeling in it a long time ago, but the loss of his hand was a small price to pay for the successful birth of their first child.

"You were amazing," he said softly, nuzzling her damp cheek gently and earning a beaming, exhausted, smile.

"It's a girl?" she asked, although Chuck wasn't sure if her question was directed towards him or the nurses. He answered anyway.

"Yeah, it's a girl." Tears sprung to Sarah's eyes, and although Chuck had been told that rampant emotions were to be expected after the birth, he couldn't blame her. They'd had the discussion regarding names for their baby not too long ago and when the possibility of a little girl came up, Sarah had revealed something to Chuck that he never would have guessed had weighed so heavily on her conscience.

 **3 Months Ago, Bartowski Residence, CA, 2100 Hours:**

They were sitting in their bedroom, Chuck at the computer desk scrolling through the document of names they'd collected, and Sarah lying on the bed.

"What do you think of Logan? Have I already asked you that…I really like that one," Chuck said, peering at the boy list.

Sarah scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "I don't like the fact that his name could be shortened to 'Log'."

"I…. hmm," Chuck hadn't thought about that, but suddenly he couldn't get the image of his poor son being bullied at school with the nickname 'Log'. He'd experienced his own fair share of nicknames when he was younger. 'Up-Chuck' was one that came to mind. "Okay, so nix Logan…."

"We haven't really talked about girl names." Sarah was right, both of them had been leaning towards the idea that it might be a boy. Not that a girl would be unwelcome by any means.

"Good point!" Chuck switched to the girl list. "Let's look at what we have…. Isabella, Abigail, Ashley, Chloe…." As Chuck scrolled through the names, he was becoming more and more puzzled as to why they had picked them. They all had such a generic ring to them and nothing screamed Bartowski to him. "I guess we spent a little too much time on the boy list," he said with a smile that faded when he saw Sarah's grimace.

"Chuck?"

"…Yeah?" He minimized the document and swiveled in his chair to give her his full attention, something in her voice told him this was going to be important.

"I have an idea for a name…But I'm not sure how you'll feel about it."

Rising from his chair, Chuck joined her on the bed, propping himself up on a mound of pillows and rolling onto his side to face her, placing his hand gently on her swollen belly and rubbing circles on her skin. "Go ahead. I'm ready."

Sarah sighed. "Do you remember the day you saw me tell Shaw my real name?"

"Yeah, I do…" Chuck knew now that Sarah revealing her birth name to Shaw had been nothing more than a cry for recognition. She'd been in pain and she'd wanted someone to know the real her. They'd talked in depth about how much Sarah regretted letting Shaw be the first one to hear it, but she'd made a mistake and had admitted it. They had moved on and since then, Chuck had learned so much more about who she was, and who she'd become with him.

"You know that my real name lost its meaning for me a long time ago," she continued. "From the moment I started going on con jobs with my father, I wasn't Sam. But…Well, when I saved Molly from Ryker and saw the life she had with my mom…. I realized how much I'd missed during my own childhood."

Chuck remained silent. It wasn't often Sarah talked about her feelings regarding her past, even now that they were married.

"I wanted my mom to give Molly everything I missed. Everything I didn't realize I wanted for myself. And now…I think I want to be able to give our baby the same thing. A normal life."

Chuck reached out for her hand and brought it to his chest, stroking his thumb over her knuckles gently. He already knew what she was going to say, but he wanted to hear the words.

"If our baby is a girl. I would love for her to have the name Sam. She deserves the life she never got…." Sarah finally looked at him, her brows were furrowed low over her eyes. With a slight quaver in her voice, she asked, "Does that sound crazy?"

"No, no!" Chuck pushed himself up on the pillows and pulled her against his chest. "No, it doesn't sound crazy at all…I get it, Sarah. I do." He paused to kiss the top of her head. "I can't think of a better name for our daughter."

"Samantha Bartowski has a nice ring to it too, don't you think?"

Chuck grinned. "Definitely."

 **Present Day….**

"Would you like to hold her?"

Chuck was pulled out of his thoughts when the nurse walked towards him and held out a small pink bundle. He almost said no, afraid he might hurt her. But the nurse was already helping Chuck cradle the little girl in his arms, and then she stepped away. Chuck felt as if he and the baby were the only two people in the world. He gazed down into her soft round face, studying her little nose and pink lips. She had a mop of fuzzy brown hair on top of her head already, courtesy of Chuck's own curly haired genetics. With one hand, he reached up and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. She was so soft he could hardly feel her. At his touch, she opened her tiny blue eyes and blinked at him, before scrunching her face up again and grunting softly.

"Oh my god," Chuck murmured to himself. "She's perfect."

Moving back to the side of the bed, Chuck sat on the edge and carefully handed the baby to Sarah. He watched her cautiously, knowing that this moment might hit her harder than it did him. Chuck had always seen himself with a family one day. He'd imagined it with Jill before she'd broken his heart, and he'd seen it with Sarah, even when he thought they'd never really be together. But for Sarah, who had admitted that she never imagined she'd fall in love, let alone get married and want to start a family; holding her child for the first time would be absolutely monumental. She didn't say anything, her eyes simply flickered over the baby's face, welling with tears that eventually dripped onto the pink blanket that swaddled her. Chuck felt her shaking and he wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders, kissing her temple again and whispering words of comfort.

Finally, she was able to draw her eyes away from the baby and look up at him. "I love you." He'd heard the words so many times since they'd become a couple, but in this moment they suddenly felt different. As if they carried the weight of every hardship they'd gone through to get to this moment. Chuck could only hope that his response conveyed his emotions with just as much clarity.

"I love you too. So much."

"We can take her to the nursery now," said the head nurse, stepping forward to take the baby from Sarah's arms. "We'll bring her back in an hour or so, after you've gotten some rest in recovery. Sound good?"

Sarah's expression tightened and she held the baby closer, as if trying to hide her from the nurse's view. "Can't she stay with us? Why do you need to take her? Is something wrong?" Sarah's voice rose with each passing question. Then, suddenly, her mood shifted to anger. "Did the doctor do something to my baby? If he did, I'll find him and I'll…." She suddenly stopped when Chuck gently put his hand over hers and gave her a warning look.

The nurse smiled understandingly. "I'll bring her back for a visit very soon. She can even spend the night in your recovery room if you want. But we need to take her to run a few tests and give immunizations…. Don't worry, she'll be safe with us." Sarah still looked hesitant, so Chuck squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

"They'll bring her back soon."

After another moment of hesitation, Sarah relented and handed the baby off. The nurse turned to Chuck after she had the baby safely in her arms and asked, "Do you have a name? Or would you like us to refer to her as Baby Bartowski for now?"

"Baby Bartowski, that's cute," Chuck smiled. "We can't stick with that name permanently can we?" He chuckled when Sarah gave him a disapproving look. "No, we have a name."

He glanced back at Sarah and she nodded her approval, the tears in her eyes spilling down her cheeks again. "Her name is Sam."

The nurse nodded and smiled, and Sarah watched the two of them leave the room, wiping the tears away from her eyes and craning her neck to keep them in view until they disappeared behind the door. Then she turned her attention to Chuck and he quickly remembered how angry she'd been with him during labor. Her expression was dark now. She appraised him silently for a moment before gesturing for him to take a step closer. Chuck didn't move.

"Come here," she ordered, waving him closer with her hand.

He inched forward, only a little closer to the bed, but stopped just short of Sarah's reach. Then he saw Sarah's dangerous expression falter and her lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile.

"Chuck, come here," she whispered affectionately.

Deciding the worst thing she could do to him in her current state was bruise him, he got close to her bedside and stood tensely, waiting for a verbal or physical beating. He was surprised when he felt her hand on his arm, stroking it softly. When he looked down at her, her dark expression had been replaced with one of love.

"Thank you," she said quietly, pulling him forward into a hug. The embrace was a little bit awkward, considering how low the bed was, but they managed and Chuck sighed happily as he held his Sarah close, nuzzling his nose in her hair and smiling. He wasn't sure what she was thanking him for, maybe for being there during the birth, or for helping create their baby in the first place, or maybe for simply loving her. It could have been any reason at all and Chuck wouldn't have cared. The point was they were happy and they had a baby of their very own, and she was healthy and everything had gone smoothly.

Another nurse came into the room then, interrupting their embrace. She offered to take Chuck and Sarah to the recovery room where she would help Sarah take a shower. They went and Chuck paced around the small room while he waited. He was eager to see his baby again. But he knew that she needed just as much rest as Sarah did at the moment, so he would have to be patient.

The nurse brought Sarah in and helped her settle in the recovery bed while Chuck stood by, overseeing everything. It became apparent to him how exhausted she was. Her eyelids drooped as soon as she lay down but she reached out for him anyway, her hand draped lazily over the side of the bed frame. Chuck pulled his chair close and laced his fingers with hers, although they were still rather sore he didn't care anymore. Raising the other hand, he stroked her hair back and kissed her forehead gently, continuing to caress her as she fell asleep. Right before she lost consciousness he heard her voice.

"Chuck?"

"Yeah? What is it, baby?"

"We did it," she mumbled, a sleepy smile on her lips. "We're parents…."

"Yeah," he chuckled, kissing her again. "Yeah we are. I love you."

 **o-o-o-o**

The nurse returned about an hour later with Sam in a little rolling crib. Sarah had only just woken up, an hour not nearly enough rest for her after the eleven she'd gone through to give birth to Sam. Chuck assumed it was the lack of sleep that fueled Sarah's dull response when the nurse asked if she was ready to try feeding the baby. For a moment, Sarah just looked confused, but then her expression cleared and turned into something more akin to panic.

"Now?" she asked, her voice quavering.

"If you're ready," the nurse replied easily. "We can wait a little longer if you need more time. The baby will be just fine."

"Um, no, no. I'm…. I think I'm ready, I can try." Chuck watched from his seat near the bed as the nurse helped Sarah position Sam. There was a beat of silence and then Sarah frowned.

"I don't think it's working."

"Give her a minute," the nurse said patiently. "Most babies take a while to learn how to latch on. She'll get it."

"Are you sure?" Sarah was sounding more and more concerned, and Chuck was struggling to hold back his amusement.

"I'm sure."

Another few minutes passed and Sam seemed perfectly content to sleep instead of eat. The nurse suggested they take Sam back to the nursery for a bit, but Sarah was adamant she stay.

"I don't understand," she said, sounding distraught. "What am I doing wrong? What if Sam's really hungry and I can't feed her? Chuck, what if I can't do it!" Sarah's voice was getting more frantic with each passing question.

"Baby, it's okay," Chuck interrupted, pulling his chair closer to the bed. He instantly regretted the move when Sarah turned her angry gaze on him. "She'll get it," he continued soothingly. "She might not even be hungry right now. Let's give her a little break. You could probably use one too."

Sarah's expression darkened even further and Chuck visibly gulped. The nurse chuckled to herself and took Sam from Sarah's arms, setting her in the little basinet and telling them she'd be back to check on them in another hour. Sarah stared at Sam's still form, pursing her lips.

"Do you think I'm doing something wrong?"

"No, not at all," Chuck assured her, reaching for her hand. It remained limp in his grip. "Honey, it's not going to happen instantly. She's gotta learn just like you do. Just be patient."

Sarah frowned and took her hand away. Chuck sighed and sat back in his chair. He should have known Sarah would be upset if she didn't get immediate results, but there was nothing he could do for her. It wasn't as if he could feed Sam, no matter how much he wanted to help carry the burden. Another hour of tense silence passed between the two of them before the nurse returned. She examined Sam and then turned her attention to Chuck.

"Are you ready to try a diaper change?"

Chuck blinked, wondering for a second if she was actually talking to him. "Me? Y-yeah! Sure." He'd practiced. He'd diapered Molly's toys for the better part of 9-months. Molly found it amusing and often diapered her things with him. Chuck had the technique down. But it suddenly felt different, with a real and very delicate baby at her fingertips. Sarah was watching him, a smug smile playing on her lips when she saw him hesitate.

"Doing okay over there?" she asked.

"Oh, just fine," he replied, throwing her a smirk over his shoulder. "I've got this mastered. Level 100 in diapering skills."

Carefully, he undid the Velcro straps of the old diaper and lifted Sam gently off the table, she grunted and cried out and Chuck froze, terrified that he'd hurt her. She went silent again and the nurse urged him to continue.

"You're doing just fine, keep going."

Chuck swallowed, unfolding the new diaper and lifting Sam's legs again. She was silent this time, and as he taped down the Velcro straps of the new diaper he shot Sarah an arrogant look over his shoulder.

"What'd I tell ya?" he boasted, holding Sam up high for Sarah to see. "Already a master."

Sarah frowned and narrowed her eyes dangerously. Chuck gave her a weak smile and chuckled nervously. As he lowered Sam back into his arms, she snuffled and then began to cry, loudly. Chuck panicked, frantically checking the diaper to make sure he hadn't strapped it too tightly.

"Oh…Did I hurt her? Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean to, I just-"

"It's alright," the nurse interrupted. "Don't panic. She just needs to feel you hold her."

Chuck nodded, cradling his daughter with unsure arms. He rocked her back and forth slowly, uttering soft words of comfort, but she didn't seem eager to stop shrieking anytime soon.

"Ssshh, shh, it's okay, Sam. It's okay." He looked at the nurse helplessly, who just nodded and gestured for him to continue. "I..uh…It's okay, please don't cry."

Sam continued to do so in spite of Chuck's pleas.

"She could be hungry," the nurse suggested. "Why don't we try feeding her again."

Chuck nodded and took the squealing baby over to Sarah, who suddenly looked as nervous as he did. Once again, the nurse helped Sarah position Sam and the three waited with baited breath as she continued to cry. Chuck turned away from the scene, walking back over to his chair and collapsing into it when suddenly Sam's cries ceased.

"Chuck!"

He whirled around at the elation in Sarah's voice and a warm smile spread across his face when he saw that Sam seemed to have finally figured out the 'intricacies' of breast feeding.

"She did it," Sarah whispered, watching the baby with a rapt expression. "…She did it."

"Wonderful job," said the nurse. "I knew the two of you would get it."

After a moment, Sarah looked up at Chuck, her lips quirking into a triumphant smile. "What was that you said about being a 'master'?"

"Alright, alright, point succeeded to you," Chuck relented, holding up his hands. Competition aside, he was just glad to see Sarah smile again. "I'll one up you next time. I can't exactly compete in this department now can I?"

Sarah just rolled her eyes. Chuck pulled his chair closer, its legs scraping along the tile floor. He sat close by, running a hand over Sam's little head and kissing Sarah on the cheek. She looked up at him and grinned. He wondered briefly if she was as exhausted as he was after attempting to take care of Sam for only a few hours, but then he realized that was a dumb question. Of course she was. And a bud of anxiety bloomed in his gut. If taking care of Sam was this difficult with a team of capable hospital staff on their side, how were they going to cope on their own? Deciding it was best not to worry about it too much while they were still at the hospital, Chuck pushed the thought aside and focused on his ecstatic wife and perfect baby. Whatever the future held for them, they would face it together.

 **o-o-o-o**

Sarah was unnervingly quiet for most of the car ride home. She kept glancing back over her shoulder at Sam, who was resting in her baby carrier in the back. When she wasn't watching Sam, she was tapping her knee anxiously, her gaze trained out the passenger side window. Something was very obviously bothering her, but Chuck didn't want to push her, especially not after everything she'd been through in the past three days. If she wanted to tell him, she would.

They arrived in Echo Park and Chuck grabbed their overnight bags while Sarah took Sam, in her baby carrier, out of the car and headed towards their apartment. Chuck caught up, opening the front door and tossing their bags on the couch. When he turned around he saw Sarah standing in the threshold, her eyes wide and her lips spread in a thin line. She looked pale.

"You okay?" He asked quickly, coming to her side and placing a steadying hand on her back.

"Can you take her?" Without waiting for his response, Sarah pushed Sam's carrier into Chuck's arms and leaned back against the door frame, taking a deep breath and hiding her face in her hands. Chuck's heart skipped a beat, or five, as he watched Sarah deteriorate right in front of him. Had something gone wrong during the birth that the doctor missed? Was he going to lose her right here on the doorstep?

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you alright? Sarah?" He shifted the baby carrier onto the crook of his left arm, freeing his right hand so he could grab Sarah's arm, trying to steady her. She looked up at him and he saw that her eyes were filled with tears, a panicked expression tightening her features.

"I can't do this."

"What are you talking about?" Chuck asked, confused.

"This." She gestured at Sam and then at their apartment and herself. "I can't do this, Chuck. What am I supposed to do now? What if I do something wrong? What if I lose her? What am I supposed to do for her?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Chuck interrupted Sarah's panicked rambling and pulled her away from the doorframe, drawing her against his chest. She hid her face in his shirt, her body shaking beneath his arm. "Sarah, breathe. You've already done the hardest part…the part you had to do on your own. From here on out, we raise her together. We're partners in this. You're not alone."

Sarah took a few moments to calm herself, her arms wrapped loosely around Chuck's waist. When she'd managed to catch her breath, she looked up at him and he wiped her tears away with his thumb. "I don't know how to be a mother, Chuck. Let alone a good one." Sarah looked down at Sam, lying asleep in the carrier on Chuck's arm and sighed heavily. Gently, Chuck put his hand under her chin and lifted her face back to his.

"Sarah, you already are. Look how worried you are for her right now. If you weren't a good mother, you wouldn't be so concerned. This is the easy part. Feed her, keep her clean, make sure she gets enough sleep. And I'm going to learn with you and help you every step of the way. You're not alone in this. You never will be."

Slowly, she nodded, seeming to find comfort in his words and in his embrace. Satisfied that she was calm again, Chuck set down the carrier and carefully lifted Sam out of it, cradling her against his chest with one arm and pulling Sarah against him with the other. Sarah angled herself towards Sam, keeping her side pressed against Chuck's chest and lifting her hand to stroke the baby's cheek.

"This is going to be a new adventure for both of us," he continued, watching her brush Sam's wispy hair aside. "And I promise you that you're going to be an amazing mother. I have no doubt."

She looked up and kissed him gently, a smile on her lips. "I'm lucky I have you."

"Funny," he replied softly. "I was gonna say the same thing."

 **September 20th, 2015, Bartowski Residence, CA: Two Years Later…**

"Samantha Bartowski!"

Chuck held the fresh diaper out at arms-length as he chased his daughter around the living room, as if he could scoop her up into it the second he caught her. She was surprisingly agile for a toddler, Chuck thought as she scurried past his legs, cackling hysterically, and threw herself against the couch, stubby arms and legs flailing as she scrambled on top of it. Chuck watched her from the kitchen, unable to hold back his smile when she stood on the cushions, stark-naked, and stuck her thumb in her mouth, her expression smug.

"Come on, Sam," he cooed, taking slow steps towards the couch, the diaper still clasped in his hands. "Mommy's going to be home any minute now. Don't you wanna show Aunt Ellie your new pretty pink shorts?"

"No!" Sam squawked taking her thumb out of her mouth long enough to shout the word before sticking it right back in and beaming at him. Chuck heaved a sigh. Morgan had a field day on Sam's second birthday, warning them about the "terrible two's" and regaling them with tales of his own childhood, but Chuck hadn't paid him any mind. Until now. Sam's favorite word had changed quickly from "mommy" to "no" in what felt to Chuck like less than a day.

"I will tickle you into submission if I have to, Sam. Don't make me do it." He took another few steps closer and Sam wiggled excitedly, her short brown curls bouncing against her little shoulders. They both paused, staring at one another, and then Sam shrieked and made to leap off the edge of the couch. A bolt of panic shot through Chuck as he realized that she would inevitably smack some part of herself against the coffee table if she made the jump. He reached out and looped his arms around Sam's body, blowing a raspberry against her stomach when she tried to squirm away from him. She squealed with laughter, flailing wildly and Chuck used the distraction to take her back to her room where her clothes were waiting.

"You are one naughty little girl; you know that?"

"No!"

"Yeah…." Setting Sam down on the bed, Chuck finally managed to finagle her diaper on past her kicking legs and set about with the shirt and shorts next. It was only a little less exhausting than a wrestling match and Chuck found himself ready to take a nap by the time his daughter was fully dressed. Fortunately, she'd calmed down significantly and was searching the bed, her little brows drawn low over her eyes.

"Daddy, where?"

"Where what, honey?" Chuck asked, flopping down onto the bed next to her and watching Sam palm the pillows and sheets.

"Where Sir?"

It took Chuck a second to understand what she'd said and then he realized what she was after. He saw Sir Carmichael's ear sticking out between two of Sam's pillows, and he reached over to grab the battered teddy bear.

"You want Sir Carmichael?"

Sam shouted something that must have been a 'yes' and hugged the bear tightly, squirming her way off the bed and heading towards the door. Chuck stood and followed her out into the living room, taking one step for every five of her tiny ones.

"You wanna wait for Mommy on the couch, Sam?"

Sam only seemed to acknowledge one word out of Chuck's sentence because she began wandering around the living room as if she were looking for something again.

"Mommy?" Sam peeked under the table, frowned and then made a circle around the couch, squeezing Sir Carmichael tighter when she couldn't find Sarah. Chuck couldn't help but laugh as he sat down and watched her continue to wander.

"No, Sammy. Mommy's not home yet. Come and sit with me, we'll wait for her together."

Sam frowned again but relented, crawling up onto the couch and plopping down with a sigh next to Chuck. She toyed with Sir Carmichael's gnawed-on ears and glanced forlornly at the door. Chuck ran his hand through Sam's wild curls, smiling when she leaned back into his touch. Suddenly he heard a car door slam in the courtyard, the sound echoing through the open living room windows. He gasped exaggeratedly for Sam's sake and watched with amusement as she scrambled off the couch once more and waddled towards the door as quickly as her little legs would carry her. Chuck stood just as the door opened and the voices of Sarah and Ellie filled the room. Sarah helped set Ellie's bags by the couch since her sister-in-law's arms were currently occupied by her three-year-old son Stephen.

"Mommy!" Sam squeaked, throwing herself at Sarah's legs and then reaching upwards, her tiny hands opening and closing as she begged to be picked up. Sarah grinned and scooped Sam up into her arms, peppering her cheeks with quick kisses that made Sam giggle.

"Hey, baby," she cooed, brushing Sam's curls out of her face. "Did Daddy take good care of you while I was gone?"

Chuck almost rolled his eyes. Sarah had barely been gone for more than a few hours, but given the way she and Sam were acting it was as if the two hadn't seen each other in years.

"Give me a little credit. I managed to get her dressed on my own!" Chuck said, stepping forward and giving his sister a hug, careful not to crush Stephen between them. "How are you, El?"

Ellie smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm fantastic. It's so good to see you again…. Is that a little gray I see?" She pointed to his temple and Chuck clasped his hands over his ears.

"No! Nope, no way! Not yet."

Ellie laughed and turned her attention to Sam, shifting Stephen against her hip as she did. The little blonde haired boy was staring curiously at his cousin.

"Hey, Sam," Ellie said softly. "Do you remember me?" The last time Ellie and Devon visited, Sam had been little more than a year old and Stephen had been left behind in Chicago with a sitter. Sam appraised Ellie with wide blue eyes and then hid her face against Sarah's shoulder, bunching her shirt in her tiny fist.

"Don't be shy, Sam. Say hi." Sarah bounced Sam against her shoulder and gently pulled her thumb from her mouth. Sam glanced once again at Ellie but said nothing. "Sorry, Ellie. She's usually not this quiet."

"Seriously," Chuck agreed. "She's a whirlwind. This is oddly out of character…It's a little terrifying actually."

Ellie laughed again. "Don't worry, Stephen's the same way. She'll warm up to us at her own pace."

"Where are Awesome and Clara?"

"Outside," Ellie gestured with her chin. "Clara insisted on helping Devon with the bags. She's always helping him around the house too. Daddy's little girl, you know?"

Chuck peered out the window and saw Devon towing a load of luggage through the courtyard, Clara following with her stuffed monkey toy and small rolling backpack.

"I'd better go help him," he chuckled, stepping past Ellie and Sarah.

"Come in and get settled Ellie," Sarah said, gesturing for Ellie to step inside. "I'll help you put your things in the guest room."

Ellie nodded and set Stephen down at her feet. He immediately made a beeline for the toys lying near the coffee table that Chuck had neglected to put away earlier. As soon as Sam saw her toys being moved around by a stranger, she struggled in Sarah's arms, stumbling after Stephen once she'd been put down. Sarah and Ellie watched curiously, and with a touch of concern, as Sam approached Stephen. This was the first time the cousins had really interacted with each other, and both Sarah and Ellie knew how possessive toddlers could be about their territory. Ellie started to move in their direction, ready to intervene if necessary. But Sam just watched him play with her little toy bus for a moment, and then plopped down next to him, grabbing Sir Carmichael and handing him to Stephen. The little boy grinned and placed Sir Carmichael on the bus, driving him around the coffee table while Sam watched.

"Oh my god," Ellie squeaked, watching the proceedings with glassy eyes. "That's adorable."

Sarah nodded and smiled. The door opened again and Chuck returned, Devon and Clara trailing behind him.

"Hey, there's already a party in here," Devon said, taking in the scene before him. "Wanna go play with your brother, Clara?"

Clara looked up at her dad and then at her brother and cousin and shook her head, gesturing to her bag instead. "Daddy, I have to put my stuff away."

"Responsible little four-year-old, isn't she?" Chuck said, grinning at his niece.

"Uncle Chuck, I'm almost five now," Clara informed him with some pride. Chuck could only chuckle and shake his head.

"She's a good girl. Already a go getter," Devon replied.

"No idea where she gets that from," Chuck teased, clapping Devon's shoulder.

Once the Woodcombs had settled in the apartment, the rest of the afternoon passed quickly. After dinner, the family spent time talking and catching up while the kids watched a Disney movie in the pillow fort Devon and Chuck built for them. When bedtime rolled around, the adults decided to call it a night too. Traveling most of the day had taken a lot out of Ellie and Devon, especially with two young kids. Chuck helped Sarah bathe Sam and get her dressed and ready for bed. As soon as she hit the pillow she'd fallen asleep. Clara slept on a blow up bed nearby, Chuck dropped a kiss onto her forehead as they left, leaving the nightlight on for the two girls. When they returned to their own room, Chuck noticed a small smile on Sarah's face as she pulled on her sleepwear.

"I know that look," he said. "What are you thinking about?"

"Stephen and Clara are close, aren't they?" she said, pulling back the covers and slipping underneath them. "It was nice watching them play with each other."

"Yeah, it was," Chuck agreed, his mind going back to his own childhood with Ellie. "Siblings are important. I don't know what I'd have done without Ellie."

Sarah chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, her fingers toyed with the hem of the blanket.

"Seriously, what it is?" Chuck asked, placing his hand on top of hers.

"What do you think about having another baby?"

Chuck had to take a second for his brain to catch up. "Another baby?"

"Yes." Sarah looked at him earnestly, her blue eyes sparkling in the lamplight. _Another baby._ Chuck sat back against the pillows to think about it. The idea set his heart racing in the best way. Sam was growing up quickly, and the older she got, the more apparent it became that she needed a friend. Someone her own age that she could interact with on a daily basis. Seeing her cousins once every year wasn't going to cut it, and there weren't that many children in the neighborhood as young as she was. Sarah had grown up an only child, but had told him she wished she hadn't. And Chuck couldn't imagine his life without Ellie. Giving Sam a sibling could only be a good thing, and besides that, Chuck loved the idea of another little Bartowski running around the house. Another baby to raise with the woman he loved.

"Yeah," he said finally, turning on his side and smiling at Sarah. "Another baby. I like it. Let's do it."

"Really?" She looked a little surprised by his immediate answer. "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean 'am I sure'? You asked!"

"I know, I know. I just…I want to make sure it's what you really want. You're not just saying it to make me happy?"

"Sarah, nothing would make me happier than having another baby with you." He paused. "You're the one who's going to have to do all the heavy lifting. Although I'm not sure how much more of a beating my fingers can take after the last time. I'm pretty sure you accidentally disfigured my hand."

"Chuck if I wanted to disfigure any part of you it wouldn't be accidental."

Chuck blinked, his mouth falling open. "Is it concerning that I found that threat a little bit…. hot?"

Sarah chuckled and took his hand between hers with exaggerated gentleness. "Can we be serious now?"

"Yes, absolutely. Serious. Another baby. I would love to, Sarah, but I'm the one who should be asking if _you're_ sure."

"I'm sure," she said with a confident smile. He grinned back at her and reached out, looping one arm around her waist and kissing her cheek.

"Then let's do it."

He dropped another kiss onto her bare shoulder, following the line of her collarbone to her neck, smiling against her skin when she shivered slightly.

"Chuck…"

"Hmmm?" he mumbled, nuzzling the spot below her ear and jaw.

"Not now… You sister and brother-in-law are in the very next room."

"I know. Not now," he agreed, continuing to place soft kisses on her neck. "I'm just practicing."

She giggled, the noise vibrating against his lips, making him grin. "As soon as they leave."

"Yeah…As soon as they leave we try again. As many times as we need to until it happens."

She laughed again and Chuck pulled away from her neck, rolling over to turn off the lamp. He curled around his wife, wrapping his long arms around her waist and sighing in contentment as sleep took them both.

 _Another baby._

 **June 22** **nd** **, 2016, Bartowski Residence, CA: 9 months later….**

"Here they come, Sam!" Emma said excitedly, popping up from the couch and hurrying towards the front door. Sam followed a little more slowly, not nearly as excited as her grandmother or her aunt were to see the newest Bartowski. Molly pulled her by the hand as Sam dragged her feet. The door swung open and Chuck entered, holding a baby carrier in the crook of one arm.

"Welcome home!" Emma said excitedly, peering at the baby carrier. "How did everything go?"

"Everything went fine. Both baby and mother are in perfect health."

Emma pulled Sarah into a crushing hug the second she entered the house. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"I'm fine, mom," Sarah said with a smile, gently extracting herself from her mother's embrace. "Like Chuck said, everything went well."

Emma pulled Sarah back into another hug, this one shorter, and she placed a kiss on her daughter's cheek before she pulled away. She then turned her attention to the baby in the carrier, brushing away the tears in her eyes with the tips of her fingers. "Can we see him?"

"Of course," Chuck said setting the carrier down and carefully pulling his son out of it, holding the baby up for Emma to see. She "ooh'd" and stroked his dark fuzzy hair.

"He's beautiful."

"His name is Landon."

"Landon Bartowski," Emma echoed. "Want to see your nephew Molly?"

Molly nodded and Chuck knelt down so the little girl could see. She reached out tentatively and touched Landon's cheek gently.

"He's kinda red."

Chuck laughed. "Yeah, he kinda is."

Sam stood aside, watching the proceedings warily. She only approached when Sarah gestured for her to come closer. Chuck swiveled on his knee and angled the baby towards Sam.

"What do you think, Sam? This is your little brother."

Sam stared at the small, wrinkly little human and then turned away, walking towards Sarah and hugging her legs. Chuck's lips twisted into a smile and he chuckled.

"Not too fond of him, huh?"

Sarah stroked a hand through Sam's hair. "She'll get used to him."

"She's probably just a little jealous that she has to share your attention now," Emma said.

"Good point," Chuck agreed, placing Landon back in his carrier and heading towards the nursery. "She'll get over that too. I know Ellie was the same way when I was born."

"Let's go play!" Molly said, tugging on Sam's hand when she tried to follow Sarah and Chuck to the nursery.

"That's right," Emma agreed, turning on the television for them as well. "You two entertain yourselves while they get Landon settled. I'll make dinner soon, okay?"

Sam watched forlornly as Emma followed her parents down the hallway and Molly pulled her back into the living room. She wasn't happy about the new baby consuming her parent's attention, but without the words to describe the feelings, there was little she could do but follow Molly.

 **o-o-o-o**

It was still early, just past dinnertime, when Emma and Molly left, promising to visit again by the weekend. Sarah had gone to bed as soon as Landon was settled and that left Chuck to take care of Sam for the night. He was still exhausted from the hospital, and a huge yawn racked his body as he entered Sam's bedroom. She sat in the middle of the floor, bouncing Sir Carmichael up and down limply. Chuck leaned against the doorframe, smiling when he noticed Sir Carmichael's missing eye. He still remembered the day that Sam had swallowed it. He'd never seen Sarah so panicked. She'd rushed Sam to the hospital, breaking a dozen driving laws in the process, only to find out that Sam was perfectly fine and she'd 'pass' the eye soon enough.

Stepping into the room, Chuck took a seat next to his daughter on the floor, groaning when his knees popped. Sam didn't look up at him, she kept her attention on Sir Carmichael, pushing him against the floor and rubbing his eyeless face against the carpet.

"How you doing, Sammy?" he asked, rubbing her back.

"I don' want Landon," she replied bitterly.

"Aww, don't say that. He's your little brother."

Sam pouted and pushed Sir Carmichael away. Reaching over, Chuck lifted Sam onto his lap. She squirmed only slightly before giving up and sinking into his embrace.

"I don' like it," she mumbled.

Chuck smiled softly and kissed the top of her head. "It'll be okay, Sam. You two are going to get along just fine. And you know Mommy and I love you too."

"Daddy, can you put him back?"

Chuck barely managed to hold back his laughter. Bracing himself against the bed, he lifted himself and Sam off of the floor and headed towards the nursery. He switched on one of the lamps near Landon's crib and adjusted Sam against his shoulder. Taking Sam's hand, he placed it gently on top of Landon's head, and she began to play with his hair on her own.

"There you go, Sam. Be gentle with him."

Sam nodded, patting his cheek before retracting her hand and clutching Chuck's shirt instead.

"Landon's gonna need you to help take care of him. You're gonna have to teach him all the right ways to play with toys and introduce him to Sir Carmichael."

"Tomorrow?"

"Probably not tomorrow. But soon," Chuck said, smiling at his daughter as she watched Landon sleep. "I love you, Sam." She looked up and kissed him quickly, muttering a 'love you' that sounded more to Chuck like a 'wuv you'. Chuck knew the adjustment period for Sam would take some time. But it made him so happy to have a daughter and a son, siblings who would take care of and watch over one another in the future. Just like he and Ellie had.

"Come on, Sam," he said finally after they'd watched Landon for a few more minutes. "Let's get to bed. We can see Landon again in the morning."

He took his daughter back to her room and helped change her into her polka dot pajamas. When she was settled, he pulled out her favorite book, stretching out on the bed beside her as he read. "Max, a young and immature boy, dawned a wolf costume and misbehaved to the point where his mother became very irritated…."

She watched him for a while with large blue eyes. Slowly, they began to slip shut and Chuck had hardly gotten past the fifth page when Sam fell fast asleep. Closing the book, Chuck watched his daughter breathe in and out for a few minutes. Rising from the bed, he kissed her forehead and turned off the lamp, leaving the nightlight on instead. He paused by the door and cast one last look over his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Sam."

* * *

 _And there we have the prologue. Reviews and/or critiques are always appreciated. Also, I can't take total credit for Sir Carmichael, as he was originally (probably) used by author Whiskeyflips whose stories I totally recommend reading. I loved the name._

 _Thank you for reading and I'll see you in the next update._


	2. The Last Days of Summer

_A/N: Aaaand welcome back. I want to thank everyone for the support last chapter, I very much appreciate it. For those that enjoyed the prologue, I'm glad. However, this chapter should give you a pretty good feel about how the rest of the story will play out. Now to dispel a few fears: there will be no teenage romance, trust me, I'm am not a fan either. :) Keep that YA fiction to yourself! Okay, to be fair, there are some good ones out there. But I digress. There is no romance subplot...except for Charah. Because as I mentioned previously, Chuck and Sarah still have a role to play in this story. They won't stand in the spotlight, but they will have their moments._

 _Once again, reviews and critiques are always appreciated and thank you to everyone who is giving this story a chance. Another thanks to **michaelfmx** for being a dedicated and helpful beta._

 _Let's begin._

* * *

 **1300 Hours, Burbank, CA: SC Village: August 2nd, 2030**

The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly on Sam's head. The heavy, black tactical gear she wore was suffocating enough, but with the added heat of the sun she was beginning to feel like she was being boiled alive. Blinking away the rivulets of sweat dripping down her face behind her mask, Sam pressed her back against the low wall she'd taken cover behind and took a few seconds to catch her breath. Even after school soccer practice hadn't prepared her for this much cardio. The heavy equipment and hot sun weren't helping matters anyway. Suddenly, the walkie talkie strapped to Sam's vest crackled to life and she heard Stephen's voice. "Yo, Sam, you still alive down there?"

"I think so?" Sam replied, pressing down the button on top of her walkie talkie. She'd been hit with a bit of rebound fire a few seconds ago, but nothing direct. "Where are you?"

A brief pause and then Stephen spoke again. "On top of the tower. You've got bogies incoming, Sam. On your six."

Sam peeked over the low wall, trying to make sure that her helmet didn't clear cover entirely. Sure enough, three enemy troopers were coming her way, pacing slowly through the scattered cover and ruined obstacles, their guns raised and sweeping the terrain in front of them.

"Damn it..." she hissed, ducking behind the wall again and glancing around desperately for an exit. There was a densely forested area just below the hill, but she'd have to cross a large open expanse to get to it. "Stephen?" Sam whispered into the radio. "I'm going to make a break for the woods. Can you cover me?"

"I've got you," Stephen assured her. "Hang on... Alright, Sam. On my mark."

Sam took another deep breath and waited for Stephen's count. "3, 2, 1...Go!"

The sounds of gunfire filled the air and Sam took off without looking back. The three enemies that had been creeping towards her position shouted when they saw her running, but Stephen had them pinned. They dove behind cover, avoiding his shots as best they could while also trying to send a few Sam's way. None of them landed, thankfully, although Sam could hear them whizzing past her head as she ran.

The terrain down the hill was slick, knobs and roots sticking out of the ground. Sam almost tripped more times than she could count and she cursed her innate clumsiness as she slid down the hill. Bursting through the tree line, Sam crouched behind the cover of some bushes and continued deeper into the forest. If she could make an arc around the area and come out near the enemy's base, then she'd have a perfect shot at getting what they came for. Suddenly, Sam heard the snap of twigs, not made by her own clumsy feet, and she peered around a bush to see more enemies scrambling through the trees. They slowed down and began talking with one another, looking a little lost in the maze of underbrush.

Sam raised her gun slowly, careful not to make any noise that would draw their attention. The advice Casey always gave her on the gun range came to her as she set up her shot. Remain calm, don't hold your breath. Inhale with the aim and exhale with the shot.

In and out, Sam pulled the trigger of her rifle three times in quick succession. Red bloomed in the middle of each enemy's chest and they shouted in surprise before dropping to their knees. Leaping up from cover, Sam bolted through the forest, jumping over tree roots and dodging branches until she once again found the open expanse of the compound.

Pellets flew back and forth, splattering on old cars and tires as shouts filled the air. Now that she was in range of her team, Sam's walkie talkie crackled to life once more.

"Sam?" Ethan's voice. "Are you in the base yet? It's getting hairy out here."

"Not yet," Sam replied, glancing across the arena to the large, gray base on the other end. She was closer now, out of the enemy's line of fire and the base looked pretty deserted. Her team had managed to draw a lot of the enemy team members out into the field. "But I'm close. How are you guys looking for cover?"

"We can make a push to distract them," Stephen chimed in. "But it's gonna be a final stand. You have to make it in there Sam."

"I've got it," she assured him with more confidence than she felt. Being the one picked to infiltrate the base had seemed like the natural selection when all of this started. Sam was fast, long-legged and determined. But that was before all the damn tactical gear and sun had drained her of her stamina. Still, if this was the final push, she was going to give it her all. "Let's do this."

Sam crouched by the tree line, setting her heavy gun down and tossing her helmet aside. She would be even faster if she didn't have the equipment weighing her down. Once she got the flag, she wouldn't need them anyway. Suddenly, Stephen, Ethan and Landon burst out from cover, dashing across the field, shooting wildly and shouting like maniacs. Gunfire filled the air and Sam took her chance.

 _Short strides_ , she reminded herself, easier said than done considering Sam's lithe build. _Use your arms, momentum. Breathe_. That was important, breathing... The base was in sight now and Sam hadn't been hit. She closed the final distance in a power slide, slamming into the wall of the base and scrambling towards the entrance. Empty, like she'd suspected. Or at least it seemed empty, until she reached the main room that housed the flag and was nearly shot in the head by the single enemy that still stood guard over the flag.

"Shit!" Too close. Sam ducked back into the hallway, panting, her mind spinning for a way to get past the guard. Luckily, she didn't have to think too hard. The gaurd followed her and peered down the hallway opposite the one she'd taken cover in. Slowly, Sam crept forward, around the corner and past the guard's turned back. Once she was back in the main room, she made a dash for the red flag, plucking it off its stand and turning just in time to see the guard returning, raising his gun to shoot her.

"Surrender!" the guard shouted, his voice muffled behind the mask. Sam raised her hands, but kept a hold of the flag. Realizing now that she probably shouldn't have left her gun behind in the woods; she didn't have a way out. Sam was trapped and, because of her lack of foresight, her entire team was about to lose. Suddenly there was a shout and the guard aiming at her whirled around just in time to get a face full of Ethan Grimes. The ninety-pound ball of fury tackled the larger guard, taking a shot in the process, but giving Sam the opportunity she needed to bolt for the window.

"Your country thanks you Ethan!" Sam shouted as she ran. Ethan was too busy enacting a dramatic death to reply, but he did give her a thumbs up, letting his hand quiver in mid-air before falling on to the floor with a resounding smack. _Like father, like son,_ Sam thought with a smile, thinking of her goofy uncle.

Sam ran again, her knuckles white around the flag. Pellets flew, shouts filled her ears, but she kept her eyes trained on the rest of her team, covering her with their own shots as she hurried towards their base. Sam stumbled the last few steps, throwing herself over the line that signified their base and raising her fist that held the flag in the air, whooping victoriously. Stephen laughed and clapped her shoulder, signaling to the other team that the game was over.

"Did we win?" Ethan's voice came over the walkie talkies. "Sam had better have made it after that valiant sacrifice."

"Get your butt out here and see for yourself," Sam replied, as the other team approached them, guns lowered and their masks removed.

"Good game, guys," Stephen said, offering the captain of the other team his hand. The dark-haired boy looked down at Stephen's hand and frowned. Then he jerked his chin at Sam and said, "Doesn't count."

"Huh?"

The boy held his hand out and gestured for Sam to hand him the flag. "You didn't have your gun or your gear when you took the flag from our base. Technically you were disqualified the second you took that stuff off. So, we win the round by default."

"What?" Sam balked, holding the flag against her chest. "Oh come on! Who cares if I didn't have my gun. If anything, that put me at a disadvantage."

The boy shrugged. "I don't make the rules; I just know that you broke them."

"Are you serious right now?" Sam argued, feeling her face flush. She took a step towards the taller boy, doing her best to look intimidating. "Come on, in a real situation it wouldn't have mattered if I didn't have the gun when I stole your damn flag. We win, you're bitter."

"What _real situation_? This is paintball," the boy replied. "I'm not bitter, I'm just playing the game."

Sam opened her mouth to argue, but Stephen put a hand on her shoulder, reining her in. To anyone on the outside, it would have looked like a comforting gesture, but Sam knew it was Stephen's way of literally holding her back. He gripped her shoulder tightly, pulling her backwards and pushing her behind him, attempting to soothe the enemy team with a charming smile.

Sam groused, crossing her arms angrily when Stephen took the flag from her and handed it back to the other team. "Alright, fair enough. We lost. Sorry guys, just a misunderstanding. Good game, though, right?" There was a general positive consensus from everyone, except the dark-haired captain who sneered at Sam, and she had the sudden urge to shove his paintball gun up his ass.

Stephen lead the way off the field as Sam, Landon and Ethan trailed behind him listlessly. They turned in their rented gear to the front desk and piled into Stephen's car, each one covered in dust, sweat and dirt. It was lucky, Sam thought, that Clara wasn't the one that had driven them to the paintball arena. If she had, they would have been forced to wait in the hot sun while she lay down towels to cover the seats of her precious car.

"So, besides that little mishap," Stephen said as they pulled out of the parking lot. "Everyone have fun today?"

"Paintballs hurt," Landon said, looking at a bruise forming on his forearm.

Stephen chuckled. "Yeah, they can. That's why you're supposed to wear baggy clothes."

"I did!"

"You're probably just a wimp then," Sam murmured as she stared out the window, deciding to take out her frustration on her little brother. Landon whipped his head around and frowned at her.

"Don't get mad at me! You're the one who got us disqualified because of all the theatrics. Seriously Sam, who takes their helmet off during a paintball match?"

"You know what-" Sam began, whirling on her brother, but Stephen interrupted before either of them could continue.

"Alright guys, calm down. Let's not start a war over this okay? It was just a game, there's no shame in losing. Point is, we had fun. Right?"

Sam and Landon fell silent, glaring at one another before directing their attention out their respective windows. Ethan, who was unfortunate enough to be stuck between the two of them in the back seat, raised his hand and murmured, "I had a good time."

"That's the spirit buddy."

Sam spent the rest of the car ride in silence, resting her forehead against cool window. She was frustrated that they'd lost this game, but not because she'd screwed up. Stephen and Clara were leaving for college in less than a week, and this summer vacation was the last one that they would all spend together as a family. After graduating high school last year, Stephen-in true Woodcomb fashion-had taken a year off to volunteer with the Peace Corps. Clara had joined him and while it kept them both busy, it also allowed Sam another summer with her cousins. The annual summer trip to the beach house in Malibu was one of her favorite times of the year. There was no schoolwork to worry about- except for summer projects, but who did those anyway? -there was surfing, boating, paintball and family. The Woodcombs, Grimes and Bartowskis piled into the beach house for a month or two every summer and had done so since Sam was a middle schooler. Now that Stephen and Clara were leaving for college, Clara for her junior year, things were going to change. She'd heard Clara talking animatedly with her parents about her plans to rent an apartment with her two current roommate from Duke. If she moved permanently to North Carolina, Sam doubted they'd see much of her back in Burbank anytime soon. And Stephen was going to be so busy once he joined her there as a first year student.

Who knew or if they'd find other things to do with their summers, different friends maybe. Sam wouldn't blame them for not wanting to return to Burbank. Sam wasn't ready for things to be different, and she'd wanted this last paintball game to go perfectly. A perfect victory, a perfect game, a perfect end. No such luck. Life sucked. By the time they arrived back at the beach house, Sam was in a darker mood than she had been when they'd left the paintball field. As the others headed up to the house, Sam hung back, trudging down to the beach alone instead.

 **o-o-o-o**

Chuck sat with Morgan, Casey and Devon in the living room chatting and sipping on cold beers, while Sarah, Alex and Ellie set things up for the barbeque out back. When the front door opened and the trio of young men lumbered into the room, covered in grime and paint, Chuck couldn't help but grin.

"Hey, the troops are back, how did it go guys?"

"Not bad," Landon said, heading for the fridge and rifling through it, looking for something to satisfy his picky tastes. "We lost though."

"Ah, that's a bummer," Devon said, taking a swig of his beer. "Should have taken John with you."

Casey grunted and shook his head. "That would have been a little unfair to the other team, don't you think."

"Depends," Morgan chimed in. "I haven't seen you in action for a while, Casey. Maybe you've lost your touch. These young kids, tough to keep up with them nowadays, you know?" Casey just growled and muttered something to himself.

"Hey buddy, don't ruin your appetite before dinner," Chuck said as he watched Landon take two of the cupcakes Alex had made for Emmy and Ethan's birthday out of the fridge.

"I won't," Landon murmured, his mouth already filled with cupcake.

Chuck frowned and looked around the room. "Where's your sister?"

"Dunno. Probably moping somewhere."

Chuck sighed, setting his beer down and rising from the couch. "I'll be back, guys."

Casey, Devon and Morgan just nodded and returned to their conversation while Chuck strode out the back door of the beach house, scanning the shoreline for any sign of Sam. He found her quickly. She hadn't gone very far, stopping near the pier and plopping down in the sand, watching the waves roll onto the shore. Chuck crossed the beach, coming to a stop next to Sam and dropping down next to her with a sigh. She acknowledged him with a quick glance, but said nothing, returning her gaze to the sea. Chuck was silent, listening to the screeching gulls and pounding waves as he tried to think of what to say.

"There's no shame in losing, you know?" he tried after a while. Sam looked away, digging her fingers into the sand. She began bunching it into clumps and then flattening it out over and over again.

"It's not that," she murmured, her voice nearly drowned out by the waves.

"You mad at your brother?"

"I'm always mad at him."

Chuck chuckled, "Fair enough." Sam didn't seem to share his amusement. She frowned, dark brows drawing together and her lips trembling slightly. Chuck leaned over, bumping her shoulder with his. "What's the matter, Sammy?"

He knew the nickname would get to her. She sighed, blinking and rubbing her eyes furiously before responding. "Everything's going to change when summer's over."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Stephen's leaving and Clara's moving…. What if they don't come back from college? What if they don't want to spend summers with us anymore?"

"I doubt that will happen."

"But what if it does?" Sam turned to face him, finally, her blue eyes glassy and red rimmed. "How did you feel when Uncle Devon and Aunt Ellie left for Chicago for the first time?"

"Well," Chuck sighed. "It was tough. I'm not going to sugarcoat it Sam. Parting ways can be really hard." Sam's shoulders slumped and she looked back at the waves. "But you know what? Even though things changed, I wasn't alone. I had your mom and Morgan and Alex. Even Uncle Casey." Sam couldn't help but chuckle. "Things change all the time, Sam. But you're not alone. And you're not going to lose your cousins. You guys are family. Nothing changes that."

Sam nodded slowly and offered Chuck a small smile. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he replied softly. "Wanna hug it out?"

"No."

"Sure you do."

"No I don't."

"Hug." Chuck demanded. He leaned over and wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulder until she squirmed and wiggled out of his reach, her eyes flashing with amusement. "Fine," Chuck continued with a mock pout. "I didn't want to hug you anyway. You smell."

Sam looked down at the grimy, paint smeared clothes she still wore.

"In fact, you should probably take a shower before going inside or your mom might have a heart attack," Chuck teased.

"A shower _before_ I go in?" Sam raised a skeptical brow. "How would I go about doing that?"

"Well...I mean...There's an ocean right in front of us. So convenient." Chuck grinned evilly and Sam's eyes widened as she caught on to what he was insinuating.

"No!" Sam tried to run, but Chuck was faster. He caught her ankle when she tried to bolt, dropping her back to the sand with an 'oof' and hoisting her into a fireman carry after a brief wrestle.

"Stop!" She shouted, struggling for freedom, but Chuck held her tightly on his shoulders, striding steadily toward the ocean. "Dad, no! Don't dunk me!"

"Come oooon," he drawled, grunting when Sam's flailing arm smacked him in the chest. "Quick and easy."

"I swear to god if you-" Sam's protest was cut short as Chuck hoisted her off of his shoulder and dropped her into the ocean, scurrying backwards before she could recover and drag him under as well. Sam came up, sputtering, her dark hair plastered to her face. "Oh my god! You suck, Dad!"

"But you're clean now, so you're welcome," Chuck called out from his safe haven on the shore. He glanced over his shoulder at the beach house where a thin line of smoke was rising from the barbeque. "Come on, Sam. Stop goofing around in the ocean, or you're gonna miss dinner."

Sam scoffed and floundered to shore, her sodden clothes slowing her down as she chased Chuck up the beach, laughing the whole way back to the house. Once inside, Sam made her way up the staircase, tracking puddles of water as she went that she knew she'd have to clean up later... Or blame Landon for and force him to be the one to clean it up.

 _Yeah, better plan_.

When she'd showered and donned a fresh set of clothes, Sam hurried back down the hallway, stopping in front of Landon's open door and peering inside. He and Ethan were hunched over Landon's work desk, mumbling to each other and tinkering with some sort of gadget Sam hadn't seen before. It wasn't uncommon for Landon to lock himself in his room and spend hours on his robotics projects, but considering the fact that there was a full blown barbeque going on downstairs while he toiled away, Sam felt it necessary to assert her older sister privileges now.

"Landon come on, leave your toys for later, mom and dad want us downstairs."

Landon didn't even turn around to look at her, although Ethan did, and his eyes were wide and round as if he'd just been caught doing something red-handed. "We'll be down in a minute. And they're not toys. They're robots."

"Toy robots."

"Shut up."

Sam rolled her eyes and sighed. If Landon insisted on ignoring the barbeque, then the consequences were his to deal with, not hers. Ethan, on the other hand, stood up from his chair next to Landon and hurried to Sam's side, offering her a feeble smile before trotting down the stairs to join the others. Sam followed, leaving Landon to his tinkering, and hopping down the stairs two at a time.

She followed Ethan out the backdoor, where the barbeque was already well underway. Casey was manning the grill, churning out burgers and hotdogs like a pro, while Morgan stood by his side watching with wide eyes. Devon and Ellie were finishing setting the long, white picnic tables, while Stephen helped Clara start a flame in the fire pit.

Sam scanned the crowd for her father, eager to repay him for the dump in the ocean. She found him near one of the coolers, digging through the contents and handing a drink to Sarah before resuming the search for himself. She hurried to his side, fully prepared to startle the hell out of him while he was distracted, but her mother acknowledged her, alerting Chuck to her presence.

"There you are," Sarah said as Sam approached with a slump in her shoulders, disappointed that her scare had been ruined. "How was paintball?"

"Good. We lost. I broke the rules." Sam shrugged, taking the soda that Chuck offered her and narrowing her eyes threateningly at him in the process. He chuckled.

Sarah sighed and shook her head. "Why am I not surprised?"

"She is your daughter," Chuck said, waggling his brows at her.

Sarah frowned. "I never broke the rules."

"I'd say you bent them, at least a little, if the way you _handled_ the _ass_ -et was any indication." Sam would love to blame the two beers her father had already had for his blatant flirtation, but her parents were always like this. As soon as Chuck leaned forward to plant a sensuous kiss on Sarah's lips, Sam cringed and whirled around.

"Aaand I'm out," she yelped, scurrying away from them and making her way towards Stephen and Clara.

"Hey," Stephen called as she approached. "Glad you decided to join us. I thought you'd be too disappointed about the paintball game."

"Too disappointed to miss out on Uncle Casey's cooking? No way."

Stephen chuckled and Clara came around the fire pit to rub her thumb against Sam's cheek. "You missed some paint."

Sam pushed her hand away and touched the spot herself; she'd been so thorough in the shower. That was when she saw the playful smirk on Clara's lips and she rolled her eyes.

"Good one, Clara..." Okay, so maybe Sam was going to miss Stephen a little more than Clara when summer came to an end. Clara had a tendency of getting on Sam's nerves. They were so fundamentally different, but Clara had her good moments too. Sam vividly remembered the days they'd spent testing the stereos in Clara's first car by blasting Fifth Harmony as loud as they could and attempting to sing along over the blaring music.

"Where's Landon?" she asked, looking around as if she'd see his curly brown head bobbing through the group any minute now.

"Upstairs messing around with his robots. I couldn't make him come down."

"I'll go get him." Clara said, sweeping into the house without a backwards glance. For as often as Sam and Clara argued, she and Landon seemed to get along far better. It was probably due to Clara's natural motherly tendencies. Landon reacted well to coddling. At least that was how Sam saw it.

Casey called everyone together just as Clara came back downstairs with Landon. As the family sat down with their plates of food, the dinner party came into full swing. Afterwards, Devon and Stephen relit the fire pit, and the group gathered around for s'mores while Ellie and Alex brought out cupcakes for Emmy and Ethan's birthday. After the celebration, Sam sat on the ground-although there were plenty of chairs-next to Sarah. She stared into the bright, golden fire, her eyes slipping shut every now and then as the steady pulse of the flames and Sarah's hand stroking through her hair made her drowsy. Suddenly, in the distance, she heard a soft barking that pulled her back to reality. It wasn't until that moment that she realized their golden retriever, Chewy, had been missing from the party from some time.

"Do you hear that?" Sam asked, perking up and listening for the sound of the dog again. Sarah's hand stilled in her hair and she looked out into the shadows past the fire pit, towards the beach. A distant bark came again, and something in it made Sam nervous.

"That's weird," Chuck said, having heard the bark as well. "When did he run off?" He shifted to rise from his chair but Sam stood first.

"I'll go find him," she said, trotting towards the beach while the others resumed their conversations. She heard her mother utter a quick, 'be careful' and she waved a hand to show that she'd heard.

Heading into the darkness, Sam picked her way across the grassy incline to the beach. The sand was cold and wet, and squelched between her toes as she walked. She called for Chewy every so often until she heard him barking more fiercely and she changed direction slightly, following the sound.

"Chewy!" she hissed when she thought she could see the dog's bright yellow coat in the moonlight. He paused, looking back at her. He wagged his tail once, then continued barking at a man standing a few feet away. Sam couldn't see his face in the darkness, but judging by the ferocity of Chewy's bark, she probably didn't want to.

"Chewy, come," she commanded, walking towards her dog and reaching for his collar. Chewy's fur was bristled and his white teeth shone when he growled at the ominous figure. "Come on." The dog didn't budge, he continued growling low in his chest. The figure took a step forward suddenly and Chewy jerked, nearly tugging Sam's arm out of its socket.

"I've always thought retrievers to be gentle creatures," the figure said. It was a man, Sam concluded, with a deep voice and dark hair; that much she could tell. "Glad you came around when you did. This one has had me cornered for the last ten minutes."

Sam didn't respond right away. It wasn't uncommon for people to walk this stretch of beach, even late at night, but for Chewy to be so openly aggressive didn't sit right with her. The man took another cautious step forward, earning a low growl from Chewy, and now his face was illuminated by the moonlight. He had dark eyes and a long hawkish nose under salt and pepper hair, scars on his cheeks, and wore a smirk that made Sam uneasy.

"Who are you?"

"Old family friend," the man replied. "That is, if you are who I think you are."

Sam froze. She wasn't sure what to do. Everything in her screamed to run back home, but a small, curious part of her wanted to know what was going on and who this man was and why he thought he knew her.

"Who do you think I am?" she asked, tightening her grip on Chewy's collar. She was safe as long as he was between them.

"Well," the man pursed his lips, "I'd say you're a Bartowski, judging from the innate instinct to run straight into danger, not from it. Your eyes are a bit of a giveaway too."

"Who are you?" Sam demanded.

"Cole Barker. And if it isn't too much trouble, I'd like to speak with your parents, Sam. I've got a message for them."

Sam took a hesitant step back, pulling Chewy with her. The dog growled again when the man chanced a step towards them. Sam tensed, ready to turn and run when suddenly a familiar voice stopped her.

"Cole?"

The man looked up, away from Chewy, a gentle smile lighting up his scarred face. "Sarah, it's good to see you again."

Sam spun around to see her mother approaching them, carrying a flashlight that lit up the beach ahead of her as she walked. She didn't stop walking until she stood between Sam and the mysterious man calling himself Cole. The fact that Sarah was using herself as a human blockade wasn't lost on Sam, but she peeked out from behind her mother's shoulder anyway, still gripping Chewy's collar tightly.

"It's been too long," Cole said, the smile still stretching his lips. "You're still as beautiful as the day we met."

Sam wrinkled her nose, barely managing to hold back her disgusted scoff. _Who is this guy?_

"What are you doing here?" Sarah's voice was cold, distrusting; she hadn't bothered to acknowledge Cole's compliment.

"I'm afraid I didn't come for a happy reunion," Cole said with a sigh. He uncrossed his arms and took another careful step towards them. Sarah reached out for Sam as he did, pushing her back just slightly. It was enough for Cole to notice.

"I'm not going to hurt your daughter, Sarah. In fact, what I have to tell you may save her life."

"What are you talking about?"

Cole's dark eyes glittered in the moonlight. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to continue this conversation with Chuck present. It concerns both of you." Sarah hesitated and then nodded slowly. Sam looked back and forth between her mother and Cole, trying to figure out what he'd meant by a conversation that could 'save her life'. She didn't have time to ask, Cole was already striding towards the beach house. Sarah followed after him, taking Sam's hand and leading her across the darkened beach. Chewy followed amiably, his tail wagging happily and his tongue lolling out of his mouth, all signs of aggression gone.

"Mom," Sam whispered, taking a few quick steps to match her mother's pace. "What's going on?"

Sarah shook her head in response, shushing Sam when she tried asking again. Sam pouted and followed the two adults in silence until they reached the back door of the beach house. Sarah let Cole inside and then turned her attention to Sam.

"Go back to the others, Sam. Tell your dad to meet me inside." She turned after Cole without waiting for Sam's response.

"Wait, Mom!" The door swung shut in Sam's face and she was left with no choice but to go and find Chuck. Frustrated, she stomped back to the bonfire and sidled up to her father, careful to avoid drawing too much attention from the rest of the group, who were still chatting amongst themselves.

"Dad."

"Hey, there you are, did you find your mom? She went after you a while ago." Chuck reached down and patted Chewy's head, who panted happily.

"Yeah, she wants to see you inside the house."

Chuck's brows furrowed. "She wants to see me inside?"

Glancing around at the rest of the group, Sam nodded and spoke in a harsh whisper. "Chewy found someone on the beach who wanted to talk with you. He said his name was Cole."

Suddenly a look of concern twisted Chuck's features. He pushed himself out of his chair, setting his beer on the ground and excusing himself from the rest of the group. Sam trailed after him when he hurried towards the house until he turned and stopped her.

"Go back to the others, Sam."

"Dad, what's going on?" Sam asked with some agitation.

"I don't know, but if Cole's involved it can't be anything good." Setting one hand on her shoulder, Chuck turned her back towards the bonfire.

"Can't you at least tell me who he is?"

"Not right now."

"Dad, come on. I just—"

"Sam." The authority in Chuck's voice startled her into silence. It wasn't like him to sound so cold. Whoever this Cole man was, he really had set her parents on edge. "Go on."

Sam didn't argue anymore, she trudged back to the fire pit, throwing one last look over her shoulder at Chuck as he disappeared inside the house.

"Everything alright?" Casey asked as Sam rejoined the group.

"Yeah, fine. Mom wanted to talk to dad for a little. Something private. No big deal."

Casey narrowed his eyes and grunted; he didn't look convinced. His eyes flickered from Sam, to the house and then back to the beer in his lap. Sam sat far away from the fire pit, hoping she could blend into the shadows and sneak away to do a little spy work once the others were distracted again. She noticed Landon giving her a look out of the corner of his eye and she returned it briefly, raising her eyebrows at him and jerking her chin towards the house. The two waited patiently as conversation resumed; finally, Landon stood and announced, loudly, that he had to go to the bathroom. Sam nearly rolled her eyes when the rest of the group gave him confused looks. As soon as Landon strode off towards the house, Sam slipped into the shadows after him. She was going to find out what Cole wanted, whether her parents liked it or not.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading! Reviews and thoughts are appreciated._

 _I will see you in the next chapter._


	3. Langley

_**A/N:** Hey, hello, how are you? Welcome to the next update. Nothing much to say about this one except more setting up of the plot! Thanks as always to the illustrious **michaelfmx** for being the coolest beta ever and helping me out with this chapter. Thank you also to those that reviewed the previous chapters, you're thoughts are much appreciated! I do hope you enjoy this update and please leave your thoughts and comments in that good ol' review box. _

_Let's begin._

* * *

 **2300 Hours, Burbank, CA: Beach House: August 2** **nd** **, 2030**

Sam crept around the side of the house, keeping one hand on the wall to guide her through the darkness. Landon was hot on her heels. Sam wasn't about to let the opportunity to figure out what this Cole character was doing here slide. She'd briefly explained to Landon what she'd seen on the beach. He seemed as curious as she was and eagerly accepted her invitation to spy on their parents.

Sticks and shrubs crunched underneath Sam's feet no matter how hard she tried to remain stealthy. It was difficult to navigate the area around the house with only the moon to light their way. Suddenly, Sam saw the yellow glow of the kitchen lights, and she knew they were getting close to the back door.

"Sam."

She ignored her brother's harsh whisper and focused on the light that grew brighter as they approached. Creeping past the sliding glass door, Sam peeked inside and saw her parents standing in the living room with Cole. Carefully, she pulled the door open, cringing when it squeaked slightly. She gestured for Landon to scurry through the small opening and followed close behind him, shutting the door as quietly as she could. Together, they crept through the kitchen towards the living room, taking cover behind the staircase that separated the two rooms.

"Sam," Landon whispered again.

"What?" She hissed back.

"We're totally spies." Sam looked around to see a giant grin lighting up her brother's face and she rolled her eyes.

"Spies are much quieter than you. Now shut up." Peeking out through the rails of the staircase, Sam held her breath as she listened to the tail end of the conversation.

"It's only a matter of time until they find you. Brennan sent me to warn you as well as to extend an invitation to keep your children at a safe house near Langley until the threat blows over."

"What?" Sam saw her mother's face tighten. In spite of Cole's daunting words, she looked angry not fearful. "Take them away? No. Absolutely not. If we're in danger, we need to stick together."

"Sarah," Cole's voice was soft but his eyes were dark and piercing. "Be reasonable. These people aren't going to be polite. They want their revenge. And they'll do whatever it takes to get it. If they manage to get their hands on your children…. Well, there would be no better way to hurt you than to torture or ki— "

"Stop," Chuck interrupted, his face pale. "We understand…. But splitting up…. Are you sure that wouldn't put them in more danger?"

"Director Brennan has offered them a place at his personal safe house. And I will be there as well. Your children will be under constant surveillance; protected by the best agents the CIA has to offer…. They'll be safer at safe house than they will be with you." A heavy silence filled the room, and Sam felt sick to her stomach. Send them away? Why? Who was after them? What was going on?

"And what about us? Casey? Ellie and Devon? What happens to the rest of our family?" Sarah asked.

"You'll go into hiding," Cole replied. "We'll be sending more agents your way in a week to help keep you safe as well. But more importantly, you need to drop off the radar until further notice. As soon as the threat is neutralized, you'll be safe to resume your normal lives and your children may return home."

"This is insane. Who are these people? Why are they after us? Why now?" The barrage of questions coming out of her mother's mouth echoed Sam's own thoughts.

"All good questions," Cole said with a sigh. "Unfortunately, ones we don't know the answers to. What we do know is that your movements are being tracked. And we need to be cautious until we can guarantee your safety. I'll be returning to Langley to give Brennan your answer. If you want to go along with his plan, then your children must be ready to leave with me within two days."

"We'll…just need a little time," Chuck said, and Cole offered him a sympathetic smile.

"Of course. You have my number. Call me when you've made your decision." Cole strode towards the door, stopping with his hand on the knob and looking back over his shoulder. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that this is happening, especially now." Then he was gone, and Sam slumped against the staircase, struggling to catch her breath, her mind racing a mile a minute. She and Landon were in danger, life-threatening danger. And so were her parents. And they were going to send her somewhere safer? A bunker? For how long? What if the bad guys found them anyway? Suddenly, she registered her parents' voices, and she shook her head to clear away the racing thoughts.

"What are we supposed to do?" Sarah whispered. Sam knew she must be distraught, but she didn't look to make sure. It was painful enough to hear the despondency in her mother's voice. "Do we really send them to Langley?"

"They won't be safe here," Chuck replied, his own voice sounding tired and heavy. "We can't protect them. If Cole and Brennan, and every other agent, have them under constant supervision, there's no way this…whoever this is…can get to them. We don't have a choice."

There was silence for a minute. "This wasn't supposed to happen to us. Not after we left the CIA. Not after everything we went through to get here." She paused and there was a quaver in her voice when she spoke again. "Chuck, I'm scared."

"I know. I am too."

A long sigh and then a murmur of something Sam couldn't make out, and suddenly she heard Chuck's voice much closer to the staircase.

"Landon? Buddy, I can see you hiding."

Landon's eyes went wide and he clamped both hands over his wild curly hair, ducking against the staircase as if it would erase the fact that they'd been discovered. Sam sighed and stood, moving into the living room to join her parents. Chuck looked torn between amusement and sorrow, his expression dark and unlike anything Sam had seen before.

"What's going on?" she asked, her eyes flickering between her parents. Neither of them looked too willing to answer.

"How much did you hear?" Chuck asked.

"Something about sending us away?"

"Where are we going?" Landon chimed in. "Why can't you come with us?"

Sarah turned away, rubbing at her cheeks with the heel of her hand and Chuck let out a shaky sigh, gesturing for the kids to take a seat on the couch while he sat on the armchair in front of them.

"We don't know much," he began. "But what we do know isn't good. There are some very angry people after us. Not you. Us. But because you are our children, you're in danger just being around us. We need to send you some place safe until this is sorted out."

"Sorted out," Sam frowned. "What is that supposed to mean? Until the bad guys get what they want? Or until the good ones stop them before anything goes wrong?"

"Nothing is going to go wrong," Chuck murmured. "This is just a precaution."

"You're sending us to a CIA facility as a 'precaution'? Seriously, what's going on, what did you guys do?" Chuck noticed Sam's visible agitation and knew he had to calm her down if they were going to get through this conversation.

"Sam…. honey…calm down. If we're going to have this conversation, I need you to take it easy." Sam huffed and crossed her arms, following Chuck's gaze to her brother who was trembling beside her. If Sam was a bundle of frustration, Landon was the opposite.

It struck Chuck just how young his son really was, in spite of how often he seemed to be more mature than his older sister. Even at almost fifteen-years-old, he was just a kid. And no kid would want to be torn away from their family. He sat staring at Chuck with rounded blue eyes, his entire body trembling and his parted lips wobbling as he struggled to fight back tears.

"How long are we going away for?" he whimpered. It broke Sarah's heart to see him like this. They had tried so hard to shelter their children from their former life, and now it had come back and was ripping a massive hole in their family. She walked over to Landon and took him in her arms, holding him like she used to when he was younger and would get upset about a nightmare he'd had, or a bad day at school. His trembling lessened as she held him, stroking his curls away from his face.

"Not long, sweetie," Sarah said. "And you'll be in the safest place we can possibly put you. You won't be in any danger and all of the agents there are good people."

" I don't want to go. Can't we stay with you?" Landon begged, hugging Sarah even tighter. "You were agents once. You can protect us, right?" Unable to hold the tears back anymore, Landon began to cry. Sarah exchanged glances with Chuck and then readjusted herself on the couch next to Landon, pulling him closer so that he sat curled against the side of her body. He was a little too big now to fit entirely, but the contact seemed to be enough. He cried against her shoulder, his hands clutched at the fabric of her shirt, bunching it against her waist.

Sam turned away from the scene, smashing herself against the far end of the couch. Landon's words struck a chord with Sam. She knew her parents had worked for the CIA years ago, her mother as an agent, and her father as some sort of analyst. But they hadn't been spies in a long time, there was no way they'd be able to protect the two of them from whoever was tracking them.

"Why are 'they'," Sam bracketed the word with air quotes, "Whoever 'they' are…After you?"

Chuck answered, "We aren't entirely sure. That man you met on the beach, Cole Barker, he's an old friend of ours and a good agent. We can trust what he tells us. And all he knows is that we need to get you someplace safe until the threat is gone."

"What if…." Landon paused and swallowed nervously, not daring to look up at his parents. "What if something happens to you?"

Sam's stomach flip flopped. What if something did happen to her parents while they were away? They weren't agents anymore. If something went wrong before the help Cole had promised arrived….

The back door slid open, startling all of the Bartowski's out of their intimate conversation. Casey stepped into the living room, his face pulled down into a deep frown. "Was that Cole Barker I just saw headed down the beach?"

Chuck sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah…"

"What the hell was he doing here?" Casey paused, taking in the sight of Landon in tears, curled around Sarah and Sam sitting as far away from the group as she could without physically leaving. "What's going on…?"

"It's a long story, Casey," Chuck said. "Take a seat."

Casey sat in one of the nearby armchairs and pulled it forward. He waited patiently while Chuck began to explain what he had just told Sam and Landon.

"Cole came here to deliver a warning."

"A warning?"

"Someone is after us…. Sarah and I." As Chuck continued, once again, the possibility of her parents being hurt…or killed…by this enigmatic threat came up and, unable to stomach the thought, Sam rose to her feet and strode away from the living room.

She heard her parents, and Casey, calling after her but she ignored them. She wasn't getting any answers and it felt like the conversation was running in circles. She couldn't deal with not knowing anymore. It was strange to think that only a few hours ago her biggest concern was that she may not see her cousins as often. And if she had time to complete her summer homework. It all felt petty now.

She hurried upstairs, slamming the door to her room and throwing herself on the bed, not bother to turn on a light. Burrowing deep into the covers, Sam fought off the urge to cry. She was too old to let her emotions get the better of her like that. But it was terrifying to think that she and Landon might be trapped in a CIA facility while her parents went into hiding. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be a normal girl. A normal high school student. And now she'd be heading to Langley as opposed to seeing her friends again once the school year started. Would they know why she was gone? Would she be able to call them at least? What about her cousins and her aunts and uncles? Were they in as much danger as she was? And who the hell was after her parents?

Sam didn't know how long she'd been buried in her covers but eventually, a soft knock on the door drew her out of her thoughts. She didn't answer, hoping whoever it was would take the hint to leave her alone. No such luck. A sliver of light cut through the darkness of her room as the door opened and Sam pulled the covers over her face to hide from it. She heard footsteps and then felt the edge of her bed dip low as someone sat down beside her. A gentle hand pulled the covers away from her face, soft fingers stroking across her cheek.

"Sam." Sarah's voice.

Sam sighed, blinking away more frustrated tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes. "This is stupid. I don't get why we have to leave. I don't get why this had to happen."

"I know," Sarah's voice was quiet, as she brushed Sam's hair out of her face. "Believe me, your dad and I wanted nothing more than to give you and your brother a normal life. We never imagined that something like this would happen again…. Not after all these years."

"How long are we going to be gone?"

"Not long…." Sarah's tone wasn't convincing. "The Director is a personal friend of ours. He'll send the best agents at his disposal to help. This will all be over before you know it."

"You promise?"

There was a beat before Sarah's answer. It stretched just long enough to plant a seed of doubt in Sam. "I promise."

The room filled with heavy silence and Sam closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of Sarah's hand against her cheek. "Are you and dad…going to be okay?" Sam wanted to ask if they'd stay alive. If they'd be captured or hurt by these people that were tracking them, but the words felt too daunting. As if she'd jinx them by saying it out loud. The silence stretched between them as Sam waited for an answer, but it didn't come. Suddenly, Sarah's hand drifted away from her cheek and she took in a shaky breath. And then Sam heard a sound that sent a chill straight through her. She heard her mother begin to cry.

Quickly, she sat up in bed, pushing the covers away from her face. "Mom?" Sarah still sat beside her, but the hand that had been stroking her cheek was now clamped over Sarah's mouth as she tried to stifle the sobs that were making her shoulders jump. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, covering her face with both hands. Sam was petrified. She'd never seen her mother break down before, not like this. She'd seen her cry, but very rarely, and they were usually happy tears.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," Sarah choked out, her voice muffled behind her hands. The agony in her mother's voice spurred Sam into action and she scooted across the bed, wrapping her arms around Sarah's shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug.

"Mom…." Sam squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her cheek against Sarah's hair and looping her arms more securely around her mother's shoulders. It had been a long time since she'd allowed herself to be vulnerable around her mother. When Sam was younger they'd been very close. But upon entering high school, Sam had found herself butting heads with Sarah more and more often. Chuck tried to joke about it, saying the two were simply too much alike. But in this particular moment, Sam didn't find it funny. She found it sad. Maybe she'd wasted a few years, distancing herself from her mother for the sake of independence. Especially if it was now a possibility that something awful could happen to her.

"It's okay, I'm sorry," Sam said, trying to be as soothing as her mom had been for her when she used to break down as a child. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure it'll be okay, just like you said." _I think. I hope._

Sarah's sobs started to subside as Sam continued patting her shoulder, murmuring meaningless words over and over again, anything to calm her down. Eventually, Sarah took a deep breath and sat up straight, patting Sam's thigh to let her know that she was alright. Sam released the vice-like grip she'd had on her mother and sat back, her eyes roaming over Sarah's reddened, tear-stained face.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said again, taking one of Sam's hands and holding it between her own. "This is as terrifying for me as it is for you."

"What do you mean?"

Sarah looked down at her daughter's hands, trying to pick her words carefully. At seventeen, Sam was old enough to face more of the truth than Landon was, but still, she didn't want to terrify her daughter. The truth of the matter was that Sarah had not prepared herself for this eventuality, and now that the threat lay before them, she realized just how much she'd changed. When she and Chuck had decided together to leave the spy life behind and start a family, Sarah never imagined they would have to face it again, this time with so much more at stake. She'd cut ties with her old life and her old self. Her spy training had gone into disuse, the woman named Sarah Walker had disappeared. She wasn't a spy anymore. She was a wife. A mother. And she wasn't ready to face whatever threat was now knocking on their doorstep. Chuck seemed to be taking it more in stride. Maybe he'd been the one prepared for the idea all along. Sarah knew now that she should have expected it. She should have been prepared. Because now her children were in danger and there was nothing she could do personally to protect them.

"I mean… Sam, I'll be honest with you. I don't know what's going to happen." Sarah watched Sam's eyes widen and her lips thin. "But we have a team of incredible people on our side. If we stick to their plan, then we'll be okay. It won't be easy… being apart. But once it's all over…."

"…It will have been worth it?" Sam finished, giving Sarah a weak smile.

"Something like that." She reached up and stroked Sam's cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Sam was silent, her blue eyes never leaving Sarah's. After a moment, Sarah drew away and rose from the bed with a sigh. "I should go check on your brother."

"Yeah…I think I'm gonna try and get some sleep," Sam said quietly, bunching up the covers in her lap. Sarah nodded and headed for the door, but just before she left, Sam called out to her. "Mom?"

Sarah stopped in the door frame. "Yes?"

Sam hesitated, feeling a little awkward, but knowing she needed to say the words in case it was her last chance. She would hate for the last conversation she had with her mother to be filled with frustration. "I love you. Always will."

Another beat and she heard a shuffle that must have been Sarah turning. She looked up and saw her mother leaning against the doorframe, looking at her with an expression Sam couldn't quite read in the dim light.

"I love you too, Sam." They looked at one another a moment longer and then Sarah turned, pulling the door shut behind her, leaving Sam alone in the darkness.

 **1100 Hours, Los Angeles, CA: Private Air Field: August 4** **th** **, 2030**

Sam shifted her bag against her shoulder nervously, watching Landon glue himself to Sarah in a hug so tight she doubted either of them could breathe properly. Cole stood nearby talking quietly with Casey, who had agreed to accompany them to Langley to help them settle in. The private plane they were taking was leaving in a matter of minutes and Sam was finding it hard to keep the tears at bay. She felt sick, her throat tight and her eyes clouding over with moisture every time she blinked.

"Dad," she said suddenly, turning away from Cole and Casey towards her father. "I don't think I can do this."

Chuck's eyes were dull, his smile barely there. Sam knew he was as scared and distraught as she was, but he was also better at putting on a brave face. He grasped her shoulders in his large hands.

"Sam I know this is scary, believe me, we never wanted it to come to this. But I want you to be strong for your brother, okay?" Sam glanced at Landon, whose face was still buried in Sarah's shirt, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "He needs you."

 _What about me?_ Sam thought weakly. How was she supposed to handle the coming weeks?

"You'll be alright, Sam," Chuck said with a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You can do this. And you won't be alone. You've got Uncle Casey to keep you company." He gave her a wink. They both knew that Casey, as soft hearted as he might be, wasn't the best company to keep when it came to emotional moments. Sam studied her father's face, the sprinkling of grey at his temples, the smile lines in his face, the warm brown eyes.

"Am I gonna see you again?" she asked quietly, not meaning to say it out loud. But the fear was there. No one had said it, but everyone knew it was a possibility that whoever was after Chuck and Sarah would succeed in their mission.

"Of course you are," Chuck said, his voice strained. "Of course, Sam. We're gonna see each other again. Very soon. I promise." Sam nodded fiercely, feeling her throat close up and her eyes burn. She lurched forward, throwing her arms around her father's neck. He grunted and swayed backwards, then held her tightly. When they drew apart, Chuck was wearing a genuine smile, dampened only by the glassy shine in his eyes. Landon was beside them now, Sarah at his side, and Sam reached out, taking his hand and drawing him close as the two of them took a few steps away from their parents and back towards the stairs leading up to the private plane.

"Okay well…" Sam wasn't sure what to say, all she knew was that she didn't want this moment to end. "I guess we need to go now."

"Take care of each other, okay?" Chuck said, reaching out and ruffling Landon's hair. Landon's eyes began to water again and he nodded weakly. "We'll see you again soon."

"Okay." It was the only thing Sam could think to say that wouldn't have her bursting into tears. She gave each of her parents one more long look, and then tugged on Landon's hand. "Good bye. Love you."

She didn't wait for her parents' reply, although she heard it over her shoulder. Instead, she tightened her grip on Landon's hand and headed towards Cole and Casey, who led the way up the staircase. As they passed through the plane's door, Sam cast one final glance over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of her parents standing side-by-side, their hands laced tightly together. Chuck raised his hand in a wave, and then Casey pulled the door shut and her parents were gone.

Sam was struggling to ignore the gaping hole she felt open in her stomach when heard the cockpit door slid open and a flash of familiar red hair caught her attention.

"Hey kiddo."

"Carina!" she nearly flung herself at her aunt, but stopped herself just in time realizing that she might injure them both in the small space. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm your personal pilot for this flight," Carina said with a smirk. "Take a seat." She gestured towards the cabin of the private plane and Sam's jaw nearly dropped. Huge luxurious seats decorated the aisles and there were mini fold out tables by the windows, one of them had a small television sticking out of the arm of the chair.

"Wow."

"Right?" Carina said. "Welcome to Spy Air. We hope you enjoy your flight."

Sam lead Landon towards the seats and examined the soft leather more closely. Casey and Cole had already taken their seats and strapped themselves in. Landon and Sam did the same, while Carina powered up the plane's engine and made a speech that was only semi-serious over the intercom.

"Ladies and gentleman, my name is Carina Miller and I will be your captain and co-pilot…and chief flight attendant, on this flight to headquarters. On behalf of the entire crew, we would like to thank you for flying Spy Air, non-stop flight from Burbank to Langley." Cole rolled his eyes and chuckled, while Casey just grunted. Sam couldn't tell if he was amused or annoyed. "Our flight time will be I don't know, our altitude who cares, and a ground speed of whatever the hell I feel like. At this time, make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position and that your seat belt is correctly fastened. Also, your portable electronic devices must be set to 'airplane' mode until an announcement is made upon arrival….Seriously kids, turn off your cellphones. Thank you."

 **o-o-o-o**

Sarah was quiet during the car ride home. She stared out the window, bouncing her knee up and down and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Chuck kept his gaze straight ahead, his knuckles white against the wheel. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he felt brave enough to break the silence.

"You okay?"

"No," Sarah said immediately, her voice cold. "No, I'm not okay. How could I possibly be okay, Chuck? What did we just do to our kids?"

"Sarah, I know this is tough but—"

"Tough? No, tough doesn't even begin to describe it." She turned her piercing gaze on him and Chuck almost flinched away from the fire in her eyes. "We promised that we'd never become our parents."

Chuck _did_ flinch at that; her words had poked at something deep within him. A worry he'd been smothering over the two days they'd spent making arrangements to send the kids to Langley. Splitting up his family. Not only that, but possibly abandoning them, leaving his children as orphans if something went wrong. They didn't know yet how dangerous the people that were after them could be, or what they wanted. He couldn't imagine leaving his kids the same way his mother and father had left him. Just disappearing. For the greater good yes, but disappearing nonetheless. It had left a scar in him that never fully heal. To do the same to his own children…...

"We're not becoming our parents," Chuck said with more conviction than he felt. "This is to protect them. We didn't have a choice."

"Isn't that exactly what your parents told you?" Sarah asked. When Chuck looked at her he saw that the fire in her eyes had gone, replaced by pain. She looked broken, shattered by what they'd had to do.

"This is different. The kids are going somewhere safe, and we're going to have them back in no time. We're not leaving them. We're not abandoning them." Chuck knew his words were for Sarah's comfort as much as they were for his own. Still, he had trouble believing them. The situation felt all too familiar. "We're going to find out who's after us with Brennan's help and we're going to take them down, and then everything will go back to normal. Our kids will have the life we always wanted them to have, this is just a little hiccup. Everything will be fine."

"You don't really believe that." Chuck sighed through his nose. He should have known Sarah would see right through him. They'd been married too long for him to be able to lie to her.

"No…. I don't," he admitted, and Sarah slumped back in her seat. "But I have to try, Sarah. I…. we have to believe we'll get our family back."

Reaching across the partition, he laced his fingers with hers, smiling lightly when he felt her squeeze. "We're not going to become our parents, alright?"

Sarah hesitated, worrying her lip between her teeth again. Chuck shook her hand gently to gain her attention. "Alright?"

"Alright." She glanced over at him and smiled weakly. Chuck returned the gesture, squeezing her hand again, deciding to leave it there when her grip tightened. There was a long minute of silence before Sarah spoke again.

"I miss them already."

"Me too." Chuck peered out the window, looking up at the cloudless sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of the plane his children were on, but he saw nothing. Sarah's words worried him. He knew that sending his kids to Langley was the only real way to keep them safe, but a small part of him wondered if they'd resent him for doing it. He'd never wanted to become his father, but now it seemed there was no escaping providence. The Bartowskis had been trapped in the spy game a long time, and it felt to Chuck that the cycle was destined to repeat itself.

 _Hopefully,_ Chuck thought, _for the last time._

 **o-o-o-o**

"We're here," Cole muttered as soon as the engine of the plane went silent. "Grab your things."

Sam and Landon hurried to grab their bags and follow Cole to the front of the plane, where Carina was exiting the cockpit.

"Enjoy your flight?" she asked with an easy grin. Sam almost told her no, she'd been too nervous to think about anything other than arriving in Langley. Deciding it was best not to tell Carina that, she just nodded and smiled tightly. Something flashed in Carina's eyes and Sam knew she hadn't been convincing. But she stepped past Carina before she could be questioned, pulling Landon along by the hand. They went carefully down the airplane's steep steps, both looking up to see a long stretch limo waiting for them, surrounded by tall, suited agents.

"Oh my god," Landon whispered, his blue eyes widening. "This is real. We get a limo!"

It hit Sam at the same time, they were really here, protected by actual CIA agents. "This is like something straight out of _Red_." She poked Landon in the ribs with her elbow, earning a snort and a shake of his curly head.

"Really, Sam? Now?"

"When else?" she whispered back. "Seriously, look at these guys. Think one of them is Bruce Willis in disguise?"

Landon snickered again, drawing a glance from Cole, who was walking a few steps ahead of them. He didn't seem annoyed though. Rather, he looked pleased that the two of them were giggling amongst themselves in spite of the situation. Cole opened the passenger side door of the car for the two of them and gestured for them to get inside.

"After you."

"Hey fellas," Landon said, saluting the stoic agents. When they didn't respond, he smiled sheepishly and ducked into the car. Casey smirked, then grabbed their bags for them as they piled in, handing them off to the silent agents and then joining them inside with Carina and Cole. Landon was busy stroking his hand over the leather seats while Sam glanced around every nook and cranny of the compartment. Suddenly, the car's engine rumbled to life and they were off. Most of the car ride was spent in silence, although Carina had tried to start a conversation with Cole more than once. When he offered little more than one word answers, she'd given up and crossed her arms over her chest haughtily. The car ride seemed to go on forever, and Sam couldn't see outside through the tinted windows. Finally, the car slowed to a stop and the rumble of the engine ceased. Sam followed Carina out, scooting across the long seats until she could step out of the car. What greeted her was the awe inducing sight of an enormous white building. It's large, domed entrance soared far above her head, the grounds surrounding it lush and full of well-cared for gardens.

"Holy…"

"Pretty impressive, huh?" Cole said, ducking to Sam's height to whisper the words.

Carina strode ahead of the group, stopping in front of the entrance and turning to face them with a smirk on her face. "Welcome to Langley, kids. Ready to meet the Director?"

 **o-o-o-o**

Carina led the group through what felt to Sam like a dozen endless hallways. Each hall mirrored the one before it; white walls covered in plaques and statues, with well-dressed agents filing past them. There were seals decorating the floors, writings on the walls, but Carina ushered them past all of it until they came to a stop in front of a large, decorated door. A plaque hung from the polished wood with the words _Director of Central Intelligence: David Brennan_ etched into it. Carina raised a fist to knock and then turned, glancing back at the kids with a teasing grin. "Remember your manners, kids."

Sam and Landon didn't have time to respond before Carina knocked and a voice from inside ushered them in. The room was tidy, well-organized with piles of papers and documents piled on top of an ornate desk, behind which sat one of the largest men Sam had ever seen. When he stood to greet them, the top of Sam's head only came up to his suit lapel.

"Samantha, Landon," he said, crossing the room and shaking each of their hands in turn. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My name is David Brennan. I never had the opportunity to work personally with your parents during Operation Bartowski, but I've heard incredible things about the sacrifices they've made for this agency." Brennan spoke quickly, his voice clipped and professional. Sam was so busy taking in his height that she barely registered what he'd said. The last two words caught her attention.

"Wait, what? Operation Bartowski?" she asked, frowning when Brennan's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"They didn't tell you," he said, his tone indicating that he'd realized his mistake. "Well, it's not my place to say." He turned back to his desk, taking a seat and lacing his hands in front of him. Before Sam could ask what he'd meant, Brennan continued. "I'm sure you _have_ been informed of what your stay here will entail."

"Uh…"

"Director, all they know is that they are to stay at Langley under agent supervision until further notice," Cole interrupted, taking a step further into the room. Brennan nodded, the lights from the ceiling reflecting off of his bald head.

"That's correct. You will be spending the remainder of your time here in the care of Agents Miller and Barker, who will oversee your training."

"Training?" Landon asked, his eyes comically round.

"Yes, considering the threat directed towards your family, it's imperative that you two are able to defend yourselves in any dangerous situation that may arise."

"Hold on," Sam interrupted. "Are you saying you're expecting us to be able to fight?"

"Ideally? No. But it's always better to be over prepared than under," Brennan said with a slight smile. "You'll be given some basic self-defense training while you're here. I have another agent who has graciously offered to take the time to train you personally, whenever Agents Barker and Miller aren't available."

"Excuse me, Sir," Carina began. "But I was under the impression that we would be the only agents interacting with the kids."

Brennan glanced quickly at Sam and Landon, pursing his lips and choosing his words carefully. "Agent Miller, seeing as we aren't entirely sure of what sort of threat the Bartowski's are facing, I see no issue in making sure the children are protected by as many capable agents as we can spare. John, although we have not discussed it personally, you are more than welcome to remain at Langley for the duration of the children's' stay."

"I promised Chuck I'd stick around," Casey grunted. "Besides, not much else I can do for Chuck and Sarah now at my age." Sam looked up at her uncle, noting the silver hair and the lines around his eyes and mouth. Casey had always seemed unstoppable growing up, but suddenly in light of their situation, he seemed much older, tired.

"Very well." Brennan nodded. "In any case, Agent Price will be an excellent mentor to the children, she passed all of her field tests with flying colors."

"Agent Price is green as a freshly mowed lawn," Carina said, narrowing her eyes.

"And she's a perfectly capable agent. I suspect her age may help make the children feel more at home here as well," Brennan replied dismissively. Sam looked back and forth between Carina and the Director. She wasn't sure she liked the feeling of a group of adults making decisions for her while she stood by haplessly. She also didn't like the idea of another strange agent taking over their care. Carina, she was familiar with. She came into town often enough for Sam to consider her family, and they used to spend weekends cruising the highways in Carina's Lotus. Cole, she was less sure of. He was quiet and gruff and always had a small smirk playing on his bearded face. But if Carina and Casey trusted him, she supposed she shouldn't be too worried. Still, adding another unfamiliar agent to the mix set Sam on edge. A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and everyone turned towards in time to see a young, blonde-haired agent enter. She was tall and thin, dressed in a bright red blouse and dark slacks. Her large hazel eyes flickered over each person in the room before settling on Sam. She smiled and held out a well-manicured hand which Sam examined suspiciously before taking.

"Samantha Bartowski? Good to meet you. My name is Rachel Price."

"It's just Sam."

Rachel offered a swift apology and then turned to Landon, shaking his hand as well. Landon looked awe-struck. He stared dumbly at Rachel and then down at his hand after she'd let it go.

"Agent Price, thank you for joining us," Brennan said after introductions with the rest of the group had been made. "I take it you're still comfortable taking part in the training and supervision of the Bartowskis?"

"Absolutely, Director," Rachel replied, her arms crossed behind her back. "Ready and able."

"Good. You, Agent Miller and Agent Barker will be tasked with handling Samantha and Landon until we find and neutralize the threat targeting Sarah and Chuck Bartowski. If there are no more questions, I suggest that you show these two to their quarters." He nodded to Carina who replied with a little salute. Sam had plenty more questions, most of them regarding Operation Bartowski, but before she could ask, she was being pushed out of the room by Carina while Landon, Casey, Cole and Rachel trailed behind. Sam threw one final look at Brennan over her shoulder, catching the warm smile on the man's face just before the door closed.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading, until next time..._


	4. Welcome to Spy School

**A/N:** _Hello again! Welcome back. Life has kept me busy but I was finally able to get this chapter up and running with the help of **michaelfmx.** Not much to say about this chapter except that I hope you enjoy. Please leave any thoughts in that lovely review box below!_

* * *

 **1400 Hours, New Haven, CT, Office of Natasha Edwards: August 4** **th** **, 2030**

Natasha peered at her computer screen, eyes narrowing in frustration as she scrolled through her students' latest test scores.

 _Bunch of lazy twats,_ she thought, closing her gradebook and reaching for her shoulder bag. _This school is supposed to weed out the kids relying on mommy and daddy to pay their way while they spend their weekends boozing and partying._

She sighed heavily and rose from her desk chair, closing her laptop and locking her office door behind her as she left. Sometimes she felt like being one of the head professors of the Yale school of Engineering and Applied Science was almost as difficult as her former job as Deputy Director of the New Haven CSI Forensics Department. Although she'd much rather deal with cadavers than spoiled, rich students. At least the cadavers never talked back or made bullshit excuses. Natasha sighed, shaking her head to clear it. She had more important things to do than ruminate about her students. She needed to get home to her personal office. The scan she'd left running that morning after Anthony left should have been completed by now.

Natasha hurried out of the main Science building, crossing the faculty parking lot and jumping into her black Jetta. Moments later, her cellphone rang. _Anthony._ Nat accepted the call, her voice laced with feigned sincerity when she spoke.

"Hello?"

"Nat? Where are you?"

"Hey, honey, I'm so so sorry. I got caught up at work. Filling in all of these grades takes a ridiculous amount of time."

"That's okay. As long as you're alright. But the boys are here, all ready to head to basketball practice. I thought we agreed you'd take them today. I have that meeting with Mr. Lacey in an hour."

Natasha cursed inwardly, she'd completely forgotten about practice. "Anthony, I'm sorry, I won't make it home in time. Can you take them to practice? I know you'll be cutting it close with your client, but I promise to pick them up."

Anthony sighed over the line, but Nat could hear a smile in his voice when he responded. "Yeah, alright. You owe me one, Nat."

"I'll pay you back," she said, in a salacious tone that had Anthony chuckling. "Date night this weekend?"

"It's a deal." She waited for Anthony's 'I love you' and then ended the call, her smile fading as she revved the engine. With the boys at practice and Anthony busy with the meeting he and his client had scheduled, she had plenty of time to work on her project alone, without interruption.

 **New Haven, CT, Natasha Edwards' Residence, May 30** **th** **, 2019, 11 Years Ago:**

"I'm afraid- that's all I can tell you, ma'am. Your brother's more covert affairs are highly classified. Considering the fact that we were unaware of your familial relation to Benjamin until only a few months ago, there isn't much we can say. I apologize Mrs. Edwards." The suited CIA officer, Ryan Bowers, bowed his head as he finished, but Nat wasn't satisfied with just his condolences, she wanted answers.

"I don't understand," she said, clasping her hands in her lap and meeting the agent's eyes from where she sat on the living room couch. It was lucky, she thought, that Anthony had taken the twins out for the day. They'd gone this long without knowing about Benjamin, and this wasn't the way she would have them find out about her brother. "My brother never told you about me?"

"No ma'am. In fact, we weren't aware of his true past. Your brother was a smart man. He joined the CIA with a fabricated background. Benjamin Pierce was his alias. Benjamin Evans never existed."

Nat frowned and looked down at her lap, her mind racing a mile a minute. Her brother had distanced himself from her when their mother died during their teenage years. It wasn't as if Nat had expected her alcoholic mother to live long enough to see her or her brother succeed, but raising Ben on her own hadn't been easy. The second he was old enough to get out on his own, he'd left and the contact she'd tried to maintain with him had been fairly one sided. She'd known he'd joined some sort of covert government agency and each time she'd spoken with him, it became more and more clear that he was a CIA agent. But it never occurred to her that he'd created an alias. Why? To protect her? What was the point of keeping her existence a secret from the agency? Rather, not her existence, but their connection. Had he planned on going rogue all along, like the CIA officer had suggested?

"Ma'am, your brother was involved in some highly illegal affairs. He went rogue when his mentor was determined MIA. There was nothing we could do to salvage his actions. His death is regrettable, but not something within our control," Bowers continued.

"So your agents didn't kill him?" Nat asked, narrowing her eyes.

"That's information I'm unable to disclose, ma'am."

"He's my brother."

"He was also a criminal."

It didn't add up to Nat. Her brother was a smart as her, he always had been, even as a child. If he'd decided to betray his entire country for a cause this officer wasn't willing to share, then Nat needed to find out why he'd died. He'd been the only family she had. After their mother died and their father left, she and Benjamin had been the only ones to carry on the Evans name. And Benjamin had even abandoned that. Maybe that was partially why he had created the alias. The name Evans certainly didn't carry favorable memories, and Nat had been quick to accept Anthony's name when they'd gotten married.

"That's it then?" Nat said, glancing at the letter next to her from the DCI that offered personal condolences for her brother's death. "My brother was killed in action after going rogue…That's all you can tell me? No how, no when, no why?" In all honesty, Nat knew it had most likely happened long ago. Her brother had a reputation for leaving years between calls. But seven years was a long time to pretend there was a call coming eventually. She'd known a long time that her brother was gone, she just didn't know why or how.

"That's all I can specify ma'am, my sincerest condolences for your loss," Bowers said.

"Why has it taken this long for me to be notified? Seven years is a long time."

Bowers hesitated and then let out a long sigh. "Ma'am, the situation with Pierce wasn't one of the CIA's proudest moments. His file and subsequent death were swept under the rug for quite some time. Some more recent…projects…have brought up his actions inside and outside of the CIA, which is when we discovered your connection to him. For a long time, we didn't believe Pierce had a family to look into. To be honest, it wasn't a top priority case, ma'am. But your brother betrayed his country. A death is a death, a loss is a loss, but Pierce wasn't exactly at the top of our list when it came to finding next of kin. I hope you can understand that."

"I do…. Thank you," Nat replied, her voice chilly. Bowers looked up, a little surprised by her tone, but he took it in stride and headed for the front door.

"There are memorial services we hold for agents lost in the field. Your brother's plaque will not be displayed considering his…. affiliation. But it may help to talk with other families who have lost children and siblings."

"I'll consider it," Nat said, standing and hurrying Bowers out the door. "I appreciate you taking the time to give me the news."

Bowers opened his mouth to reply but Nat shut the door in his face before he could. She leaned against it, pinching her nose and releasing a heavy sigh. Benjamin was dead, killed in action. But still she didn't have the answers she needed. Her brother had been a good man. A little weak, wired and wary, but smart and good-hearted. There had to be a reason he'd abandoned the CIA and there had to be a reason he'd died as a rogue agent. Natasha was going to find out no matter what it took. She still had connections within the New Haven Forensics department. And if that didn't pan out, she'd find another way. Anthony teasingly called her relentless when they attended Brown together, but he couldn't have been closer to the truth. Nat was going to find answers if it was the last thing she ever did.

 **1600 Hours, New Haven, CT, Natasha Edwards' Residence: August 4th, 2030: Present Day**

Natasha sat in the computer lab she'd constructed in the basement of her house. She'd locked the door behind her, an unnecessary precaution considering that the house was empty, but Nat didn't want to risk anything. What she was researching was too sensitive for Anthony or the boys to discover. Almost eleven years after she'd learned of her brother's death and she was so close to getting justice for him. Patience and perseverance had gotten her this far, she wasn't planning on stopping now. The scans had been conclusive. Many of the men and women her brother used to have under his control still lived. The list of names stared back at her from her screen. They were scattered across the country, having disbanded after his death, but Nat knew she could bring them together. They were mercenaries, men for hire, they'd do whatever she wanted for the right price. And if her brother was as respected by them as she suspected, then her name might sway them a little as well. A few of them had already begun gathering intelligence for her, but they were sloppy agents. Careless. They left behind a trail. She'd cut contact with them almost immediately. She needed to be more careful with which men and women she chose for her personal militia.

Another document sat on her secondary screen, describing the details of the Intersect Project that began with an Agent named Bryce Larkin, now deceased. The technology was what her brother had been after. For what reason, Nat couldn't be sure. But she could guess. It was a powerful piece of experimental technology. Capable of creating an unstoppable force of nature through nothing more than encoded images. If she was going to find retribution for her brother's death, it meant finding whatever version of the Intersect the CIA had now and making it hers.

 _Natasha Pierce._ The alias had a nice ring to it, she had to admit. Closing the screen with the list of men and women she would need to contact, as well as the Intersect records, Natasha brought up the file she'd stared at day after day for what seemed like decades, although she'd only officially discovered who these people were a little over a year ago. The smiling, goofy face that she hated with every fiber of her soul stared back at her.

 _Charles Irving Bartowski._

Bartowski was the reason her brother was dead, or more specifically his wife, the former CIA Agent Sarah Walker. She'd been the one to deliver the final blow that killed her brother. Leaving his body in a CIA facility that detonated only moments after she'd ended his life. Ryan Bowers hadn't been truthful with her when they'd spoken all those years ago. The CIA _had_ been the reason for her brother's death. The twisted Agency that stood for good, but turned its back on its members and conducted covert projects that Nat found morally corrupt. It had killed her brother; it's agents had killed her brother. And getting revenge on them was step one in destroying the Agency that had taken away the last of her family. Nat's phone rang suddenly, startling her out of her musings. She glanced at the screen before she answered. It was an unidentified number, but Nat already knew who it would be.

"What is it?" she asked the second the call connected. She wasn't in the mood for pleasantries at the moment, she'd been expecting this call days ago.

"They're here. They arrived this morning."

"You took your sweet time informing me," Nat hissed, realizing too late she needed to be careful. Her informant had a tendency to become emotional.

"I couldn't call you right away without seeming suspicious."

"I know," Nat bit back her irritation, taking a deep breath. "You're doing well. Remember the plan from here. Now that they've arrived—"

"I remember."

"Good. Then don't contact me again until you have something to report," Nat ordered. "I want Bartowski's children under constant surveillance, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Then get it done." Nat hung up the phone, her jaw clicking as she stared at the screen displaying the faces and personal files of Walker and Bartowski. Now that the children were secured at Langley, it was time for the next step of her plan. Pulling up the list of mercs and rogue agents she would need for the next phase, Nat opened her phone and punched in the first number, a merciless smile lighting up her face.

 _You're next, Walker._

 **1700 Hours, Langley, CIA HQ: August 4th, 2030**

After the brief meeting with Director Brennan, Rachel led the group back through headquarters to the entrance where another car was waiting for them outside. After a brief conversation, the group decided to split for the day. Carina would take the kids to unpack their things at the safe house, while Cole and Casey stayed at Langley to look into any possible leads on who was tracking Chuck and Sarah.

"I'll meet up with the two of you in a few days," Rachel explained when Sam asked what she would be doing in the meantime. "I'm helping oversee your training, which means I'll have to set up one of the gyms around here just for you. I'm looking forward to see what the Bartowski kids are capable of." She smiled brightly and nodded cordially to both of them and strode back into headquarters, her high heels clicking on the concrete as she went.

Sam watched her go. Rachel seemed nice enough, but Sam hadn't been able to get a good read on the young agent. She supposed she'd have to wait until they met her again during training. Carina huffed, drawing their attention, and jerked her thumb towards the car.

"Come on, we might as well head to the safe house now."

"Are we going into a bunker?" Landon asked nervously. Sam knew that they weren't about to be thrown into some deep, dark pit-like prison but Landon's expression made it clear he wasn't so sure.

"No way, are you kidding?" Carina scoffed. "The place they set up for you is one of Brennan's personal safe houses. Top notch security and the comfiest furniture the CIA can afford. You'll love it there, trust me. It'll be just like staying in a 5-star hotel…But, you know, with surveillance cameras..."

The idea of being monitored 24/7 didn't sit well with Sam, but she knew it was a necessary precaution. The three of them piled into the car and sped away from headquarters. The drive wasn't long; it took them only a few miles outside of Langley to reach their destination. There stood one of the nicest houses Sam had ever seen. The word mansion came to mind. In fact, the building seemed a little too striking to be considered a covert safe house. But Sam wasn't about to question the CIA's tactics, especially if this really was one of the Director's. Hopping out of the car, Carina led them inside, giving them a whirlwind tour around the giant house, which had multiple bedrooms, a large living room with a wall-to-wall television, and an enormous kitchen stocked to the rafters with every food Sam could possibly imagine. The house had definitely been prepared for them, and although Sam didn't see any cameras, she imagined there were plenty of hidden bugs scattered around.

"Pick a room and unpack your stuff kiddos," Carina said, taking out her cell phone and heading for the back porch. "I'm gonna make a call."

"Hey, do you think we can call our parents?" Sam asked before Carina could leave. They'd had their cellphones confiscated by Cole before leaving the plane. He claimed a cellphone made them 'traceable'. And while they'd been reluctant to relinquish them, Sam hadn't realized until now that it left her with no way to contact her parents. Maybe that had been the point….

"Sorry," Carina said after a brief pause, her face falling. "I can't let you call them."

"What?" Landon balked. "Why not?"

"Too dangerous. The call could be traced. We don't know if your landlines back home have been bugged by whoever it is that's after your parents. If they find out you're here, then you'll be in danger again. Trust me, it'll be safer for all of you if you avoid contact until we sort this out." Carina looked genuinely apologetic, but she offered no other explanation, stepping outside and raising her cell phone to her ear.

"I can't believe this…" Landon murmured, looking down at his feet. "We can't even let them know we got here safe."

"We could always steal Carina's cell," Sam teased, nudging Landon's arm in an attempt to lift his spirits. He smiled half-heartedly.

"Yeah right. I'd like to see you try to take anything from an actual spy."

"I could try!"

Landon laughed and Sam knew she'd turned his mood around…for now. She had to stay strong for his sake, but inside she was as terrified as he was. Worry for her parents bloomed in her gut, and she was more nervous for the coming days at Langley than any evil agent who might be after them.

"Come on," she said, tugging Landon by his sweatshirt. "Let's go pick some rooms."

 **o-o-o-o**

Sam lay on a bed in one of the many gigantic rooms in Brennan's safe house that she'd claimed as her own. She stared up at the darkened ceiling, listening to the wind whistling past the windows and rustling the leaves of the trees outside. Suddenly, a loud creak startled her out of her thoughts, and she shot up in bed, scrambling to turn on the lamp on the bedside table.

"Hey, Sam?"

"You scared the hell out of me," Sam sighed when Landon crept through the cracked door. He looked small and much younger than he really was in his oversized sleep shirt and pants. His curls were wild and unkempt and his eyes were just a little too wide. It was obvious from his appearance that he'd gotten about as much sleep as she had.

"Sorry." He stood awkwardly in the doorway, scuffling his feet and toying with the hem of his shirt.

"What is it?"

Landon hesitated, his blue eyes flickering away from Sam's and then back again. "Can I stay in here with you tonight?"

A rush of fondness for her brother flooded Sam's chest. She knew he was scared, and he had been since they left Burbank, but it had been many years since he'd allowed himself to be vulnerable around her. Entering his teenage years had turned him quiet and a little bit sullen. They argued more often than they got along, which hadn't been the case when they were younger.

"Yeah, sure." Sam scooted across the bed, gesturing for him to take the other side. Landon hurried across the room, slipping quietly into the bed and curling into the sheets, lying as far away from Sam as he could. Sam sighed again and turned off the lamp, settling against her pillow and staring up at the ceiling once more. She could hear Landon breathing quietly beside her. He kept his back to her, even when he spoke.

"Do you think Mom and Dad are gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," Sam said after a moment of hesitation. The truth was, she had no idea whether or not they'd be able to handle themselves against this nameless threat. But she'd promised her father that she would be strong for Landon. She'd promised to take care of him. "They're gonna be fine. They used to be professional bad asses, remember?"

"That was a long time ago," Landon mumbled into his pillow.

Sam bit her lip, fingering the hem of the bed sheets as she tried to decide how best to comfort her brother. He was right. It had been a long time since her parents had done anything remotely 'spy-ish'. And besides that, her father had only been an analyst. She couldn't imagine that he'd be able to actually protect himself if forced to fight.

"But it's like riding a bike," she said finally. "You never forget how to kick bad guy butt."

Landon chuckled softly and curled deeper into the covers. After a few minutes of silence, Sam assumed he'd finally gone to sleep. When she heard a few snuffling snores, she realized that she'd been right. Turning onto her side, Sam hugged one of her pillows to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. If she shut them tight enough she might be able to block out the fear of the enigmatic threat that stretched over her family like a giant shadow.

 **0600 Hours: Safe House, Outside Langley: August 5th** **th** **, 2030**

"Rise and shine, kiddos! It's time for your first day of training!"

Sam groaned and pulled the covers over her head as a harsh light filled the bedroom. Not a moment passed before the sheets were ripped away and sent fluttering to the floor. Carina stood at the end of the bed, hands on her hips, a grin on her face.

"Come on, you two should be excited! This is actual spy training you're going to experience."

"What time is it?" Sam muttered, her voice gravelly from sleep. Landon lay next to her, hiding in his pillow. Although there were several rooms in the mansion, Landon had elected to stay in Sam's room for the entire night and she didn't think that would change anytime soon.

"Time to go. Come on, seriously, up kids. I've got people lined up to work with you today. Including me. I'm people. And the others will not appreciate being kept waiting. If they get grumpy…well, that won't be good for you guys." Carina strode towards the door, leaving the sheets pooled at the end of the bed. Sam sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Don't we get breakfast?"

"We'll grab something on the way," Carina replied, one hand on the door way. "Now hurry up, we have to be at The Farm in an hour." With that, she winked and strode out the door.

Sam blinked sleepily, her brain still trying to catch up with the conversation. "The Farm? …. Are we practicing punches on pigs or something?"

"No," Landon yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Camp Peary. Established in 1942. It's a CIA training facility."

"How do you know all that?"

"Everyone knows that."

"I didn't!" Sam argued.

"That's because you got a D in American History," Landon explained, crawling out of bed and searching the drawers in their shared bureau for a set of clothes.

"Okay, how did you know _that_? I didn't tell anyone."

"I found your report card in the trash," he said, grabbing a fresh shirt.

Sam gaped at him. "And you didn't tell on me?"

"Why would I?" he shrugged. Sam stared at him, unaware that her brother had the capacity to sympathize with her. "Sucky grades affect you, not me."

Sam's shoulder slumped. "Gee, just when I thought you cared."

Landon cracked a lopsided grin. "Besides. I've got blackmail material now. That's priceless." He scurried out of the room laughing just as Sam launched a pillow at him.

 _Whatever,_ she thought. _I'll show him. No way I'm getting a D in any spy school courses._

 **o-o-o-o**

"Hit me."

"…. Hit you?" Just like that? Just…hit you?"

Carina jerked her chin in a small nod, a smile quirking her lips. She, Sam, Landon and Cole stood inside a well-maintained dojo at the center of The Farm facility. Sam had time to wake up during the car ride here, but she hadn't been expecting Carina's abrupt approach to training. The second they entered the dojo she'd whirled on Sam and told her to stand in the center. And then…. Hit me. Cole looked amused, standing off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest. Landon stood beside him, his brows drawn low over his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, her voice rising. "Shouldn't we set up a combo or something? I don't want to hurt you." She was trying to find an excuse not to swing at the red head who stood in front of her, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned casually into one hip.

"You're assuming you're going to be able to hit her on the first go," Cole added from the sidelines. Sam shot him a sharp look.

"Come on," Carina's taunting tone drew her attention again. "Hit me."

Sam's jaw clenched and she balled her fists. Irritation gave her the push she needed and, without warning, she swung her right fist at Carina's head. Carina's response was lightning fast. Immediately she ducked low, leaning out of the way of Sam's swing. She caught the second attempt so easily that Sam didn't even see her move. And then there was a pressure behind her right knee and she was falling. Sam hit the mat hard, the breath leaving her lungs in a harsh gasp. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her arms spread out beside her as she tried to figure out what had just happened.

"Nice try. Your form is pretty sloppy though. Try that with someone that isn't afraid to kill you and they'll succeed," Carina said, towering over Sam.

"Oh my god… "she groaned, her back aching fiercely when she pushed herself upward. "How…?"

"Years of practice. Come on, on your feet. Let's try this again. And this time," Carina reached for Sam's hand and pulled her up, "Follow my lead."

 **o-o-o-o**

Landon shifted nervously from foot to foot while Cole loaded bullets into the magazine of his pistol. The sun blazed high in the sky above the gun range, it's oppressive heat doing nothing to assuage the suffocating vest that Landon wore. Cole finished loading his clip and snapped it into place inside the gun, pulling the hammer back and holding it with the muzzle pointed into the air.

"Alright. Quiz time. A hand gun bullet travels at….?"

"Do we have to do this?" Landon whined, the sweat on his brow not only due to the heat of the sun, but his own anxiety.

"700 miles per hour is the correct answer. And yes. We do."

Landon tugged on the oversized hoodie he wore, feeling the vest shift underneath. "Is this going to hurt?"

"Well, it's not going to feel good," Cole said with a smirk.

"Just do it already!" Sam shouted from the side of the shooting range. She still had an ice pack pressed to her cheek from where Carina had given her a nasty bruise during their sparring match.

"Easy Sam," Cole said, lowering the pistol until it was aimed at the center of Landon's chest. "You'll get your turn soon enough."

"Hold on." Landon held his hands up and took a step back. "I don't think I want to do this."

"You won't have a choice once you're in the field."

"We're not in the field, we're in a training facility! And we're living in a safe house!" Landon argued, panic making his voice crack.

Cole lowered his gun. "Fine. Ignoring the fact that you may need to be prepared for a situation like this soon enough, I'll relent. You don't have to do this."

Landon nodded jerkily and looked over at Sam. Just as he was about to call her over for her turn, something hit him in the chest with enough raw force to knock him clean off his feet. Landon hit the dirt, the impact stealing the air from his lungs. His chest stung and ached at the same time and he was forced to tear his sweatshirt open in an attempt to breathe.

"Woooooaaah!" He heard Sam shout somewhere off to the side. "Can I try that?"

Looking down at his chest, Landon saw the bullet embedded in the fabric of his vest.

"Oh my god," he murmured, pulling it free from the vest. "That was…amazing."

Cole strode across the range and offered Landon a hand. "Isn't it? Good job. Next shot, we'll work on your fall."

"Woah, woah, again?" Landon balked, taking Cole's hand. "I have to go again?"

"You may take a break, if you wish. Your sister looks more than willing to take your place." Landon looked to see Sam attempting to strap on a heavy vest while simultaneously holding the ice pack against her face. She looked so ridiculous that Landon couldn't help but chuckle, even when his chest ached in protest.

"She can go." Cole clapped his shoulder and led him off the range.

 **o-o-o-o**

The following day, Carina and Cole led the two kids to a small gym loaded with weights, treadmills and a small boxing ring in the far corner. Rachel stood just outside the ring, her dark blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. The smart pantsuit she'd worn the other day replaced with a tank top and spandex shorts. Sam smacked Landon's arm when she caught him staring. He flinched and then blushed a furious shade of red that went all the way to his ears.

"You feeling okay?" Sam smirked. "You're looking a little red….and are you sweating? We haven't even started yet!"

"Shutup," Landon shot back, stumbling slightly when Rachel smiled at him. Sam elbowed him again and waggled her eyebrows. She figured the red on Landon's cheeks wasn't embarrassment anymore when he sent her a pointed glare.

"Hey," Rachel said as they approached. She pointed to the bruise on Sam's face and then glanced at Carina. "That looks nasty. I thought the Director told us to be gentle with them."

Carina narrowed her eyes, giving Rachel a derisive smile. "Sam's tough. She can take it."

Rachel cocked a brow but didn't argue. "Right. Well, I'll take it from here. You two are free to go."

Cole and Carina exchanged glances, but only Carina looked truly hesitant to leave the kids in Rachel's care. There was a moment of tense silence between the two and then Carina turned on her heel and strode away.

"I'll meet you two back at the safe house tonight," she called over her shoulder, and then she was gone, leaving them alone with Rachel.

"Sorry about that," she sighed, holding up a pair of black hand wraps and gesturing for Sam to move closer. "Let me wrap your hands."

"What was all that about? Do you and Carina not get along?" Sam asked, watching with rapt attention as Rachel began wrapping the fabric around her knuckles.

"I wouldn't go that far. But Carina has a lot more experience than I do. I don't think she's very happy that Director Brennan put me on this assignment." Rachel kept her eyes on Sam's hands as she spoke. Either she was intently focused on wrapping her hands correctly, or she was avoiding Sam's gaze for some reason. "Can't say I blame her. I've only been an agent for a little over two years."

"No way, how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-two."

"You're so young!"

Rachel smirked. "Normally, I'd take that as a compliment. But it makes it a little hard to get any respect around here."

"I bet." Rachel reached for Sam's other hand, having finished the first. "That's impressive though. Twenty-two and you're already an agent. That doesn't happen too often, does it?"

"No… Not many can succeed so young." Rachel paused and then looked up at Sam with a smile. "Your mother did though. She was recruited right out of high school."

"Oh." Sam knew… sort of. She knew some things. Her parents didn't like to talk about their past with the CIA, no matter how many times Sam begged for details. She could learn a lot about them here. Most of the agents she'd met so far seemed to know something about their past missions. Some even talked about them reverently.

"So," Rachel began, sensing Sam's discomfort. "Have you ever done any kickboxing before?"

"Not really. I mean I know some self-defense but…"

"That's okay. We'll start with the basics, I'm sure you'll be a natural." Rachel finished wrapping Sam's hands and pulled her towards the ring, handing her a pair of boxing gloves. She looked at Landon as they stepped past the ropes and smiled. "You'll get a turn right after I finish with Sam, okay?"

Landon's eyes bugged and he nodded rapidly, his face turning tomato red. Sam tugged on Rachel's arm, drawing her into the ring and away from Landon before whispering, "You probably shouldn't look directly at him. He might burst into flames."

Rachel's mouth formed a round 'oh' and then she grinned, shooting a subtle glance back at Landon who sat near the edge of the ring, staring at his lap. "He's a very good looking young man."

"You're going to kill him if you tell him that." Rachel chuckled and pulled on her gloves, gesturing for Sam to do the same. The two of them squared up and then Rachel lunged. For two hours she took Sam through various combos and stances until she was battered, sweaty and exhausted. And then it was Landon's turn. He kept his eyes on his shoes the entire time Rachel wrapped his hands, blushing furiously when she tugged him into the ring. Sam made sure to wolf whistle and clap when Landon stumbled over the ropes, nearly colliding with Rachel. Both she and Landon shot Sam a warning glance. Sam remained quiet for the rest of the training session, but a small smirk remained on her lips. Rachel was just a strict and firm, but Sam noticed her softening the blows she rained down on Landon. Afterwards, she helped them remove their hand wraps, congratulated their progress and led them outside the dojo to a sleek, black car.

"Come on," Rachel said, ducking into the driver's seat. "I'll take you two back to the safe house."

Landon and Sam scrambled in after her, eager to let the air conditioned car soothe their tired bodies. As Rachel drove, she turned on the radio and Sam immediately perked up at the sound of one of her favorite songs. She began humming along as they drove, loud enough for Rachel to notice, because she peered at Sam through the rearview mirror and grinned.

"Fifth Harmony fan, Sam?"

"Oh my god, yes!" she replied, nodding her head. "I love their songs!"

"Same here."

Landon looked back and forth between the two girls silently as they began to sing along with the lyrics. The car ride passed far too quickly in Sam's opinion, and she forced Rachel to park outside the safe house until the last song had finished. Rachel laughed and shut off the engine once the music faded, gesturing for the two kids to head inside.

"You two did great today. I know training can be tough, but you really are getting the hang of it quickly. Both of you." She smiled kindly at Landon and he grinned back, ducking his head and blushing when he realized that he'd made eye contact.

"Thanks," Sam said, still making no move to leave the car. "Gotta say, you're a lot more fun to train with than Carina."

"Carina can probably teach you more."

"But Carina wouldn't sing Fifth Harmony with me on the way home," Sam pointed out with a smirk.

"That hardly counts as training," Rachel scoffed.

"Just take the compliment. Please?"

Rachel relented, dipping her chin in a nod and smiling. "Thanks."

"No problem." Sam put her hand on the door handle and then paused. "Why don't you come in with us? Casey will probably be cooking dinner again pretty soon. His burgers are literally to die for."

"Oh, I don't know," Rachel hedged, her knuckles tightening on the wheel. "I should probably get back to headquarters. I've got a lot of paperwork to do."

"It's just dinner. It won't take all night. Besides, it's part of your assignment to spend time with us right?"

"Technically, the parameters only specify 'supervising' you."

"So supervise us. Landon gets really messy when he eats and he still doesn't know how to use a knife and fork correctly."

"That's true," Landon said finally, his blue eyes sparkling in amusement. He even managed to hold Rachel's gaze when she glanced at him. She hesitated again, her eyes flickering back and forth between them. Then she sighed and took her keys out of the ignition, opening the driver's side door and stepping out of the car.

"Alright."

"Yes!" Sam scrambled after her, Landon hot on her heels. "Seriously, you'll love Casey's cooking. And afterwards we can watch a few movies on that flat screen. It's incredible."

"I thought you said this wasn't going to take all night," Rachel teased as the three walked towards the door side-by-side.

"I may have sold you a little white lie to get you to agree…. Spy technique. Picked it up from Carina." Sam stuck her tongue out when Rachel looked at her, affronted.

"I'm impressed."

"Thank you."

"And if you think for a second that I'm staying any longer than dinner, you've still got a lot to learn."

"Ouch."

 **o-o-o-o**

By the end of the week, Rachel had spent nearly every night at the safe house, sharing dinner with the Bartowskis and whoever happened to be guarding them that night. Casey and Cole seemed eager to share the load with Rachel and even Carina lightened up after a few days had gone by. However, true to her word, Rachel never stayed past dinner, insistent she return to headquarters to finish her work. Until Saturday night, when Carina, Cole and Casey were called back to headquarters to speak with Director Brennan. Rachel was forced to stay behind to supervise the kids, although Sam noticed that this time, she didn't seem too upset by the fact.

"Fifth time's a charm, Rach," she said as soon as Cole, Casey and Carina had left.

"What are you talking about?" Rachel asked, heading towards the kitchen.

"I told you you'd have to spend the night with us one of these days!" Sam said, trailing behind her. "Now you have no choice. It's time for you to experience a true Bartowski evening in."

"And what does that involve?"

"Well, it's Saturday," Landon chimed in from where he sat playing with his portable game station on the couch. "So that means breakfast for dinner."

Sam clapped her hands and ran into the kitchen, grabbing pots and pans and rifling through the fridge for ingredients. "That's right! Can't believe I almost forgot. Come on, you two are helping."

Rachel chuckled, rolling her eyes good-naturedly when Sam chucked an apron at her.

"I'm not wearing this."

"Oh come on! It's all part of the fun!" Sam said, tying on her own apron and pushing a mixing bowl towards Landon, who had set down his game and joined them in the kitchen.

"Our dad does this with us every Saturday," Landon said, grinning at Rachel. He'd become much more confident around her recently, only blushing when they made eye contact for too long. "He said it was something that he and Aunt Ellie used to do with their dad."

"Oh yeah?" Rachel said, finally relenting and tying on the apron Sam had handed her. "That's sweet."

"How about you?" Sam asked, dumping far too much flour into the mixing bowl. She coughed, wrinkled her nose and then shrugged, tossing the rest of the box into the bowl for good measure.

"What about me?"

"Did you ever do anything like this with you parents? You know, fun family stuff."

"My dad used to bake," Rachel said, cracking a single egg into the bowl and watching it drip slowly down the side. "I helped him sometimes…. He was really good. I always told him he could have been a chef."

"So why'd he stop?" Landon asked, closing one eye as he poured oil into the powdery, eggy, mess.

"Huh?"

"You said he _used_ to bake. Why'd he quit?"

Rachel stared down at the flour mixture as Sam began to stir. The silence stretched so long that both Sam and Landon looked up from the bowl in confusion.

"Rachel? You in there?" Sam teased.

"He died." Sam's smile faded and her stirring hand froze. Landon's mouth twisted into a grimace, his blue eyes dropping to study his shoes.

"I was 13," Rachel continued, grabbing the whisk from Sam and beginning to stir slowly. "Some guy cut him off at an intersection and…" She paused and Sam saw her lips tremble. "He was going to pick my mom up from work. I don't think she ever forgave herself. Not really."

"I'm sorry," Landon murmured. "I shouldn't have said anything…"

"You didn't know." Rachel gave him a small smile that Landon couldn't bring himself to return.

"Is your mom-?" Rachel cut Sam off before she could continue.

"Diagnosed with cancer a few years ago." Sam shut her mouth, deciding it was probably best just to stop talking. "Maybe it was a good thing, you know? She always talked about my dad as if he was still with us, even after he'd been gone for years. When she was diagnosed, I think a part of her was grateful. She'd get to see him again."

Sam and Landon stared at her, speechless.

"Sorry," Rachel chuckled, when she noticed them gawking. "I didn't mean for that to sound so dark. I'm fine, really. I've been on my own for a while now. I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be," Sam said, finding her voice. Rachel cocked a brow at her. "I mean… Everyone should have a family."

Rachel shrugged. "Not everyone's that lucky."

"You could come stay with us," Landon squeaked, ducking his head when both girls turned to look at him. "I mean visit…Or something. Like, for holidays. I'm sure mom and dad would love to have you."

"Yeah!" Sam nodded eagerly. "Especially after all you've done for us here!"

"I don't know about that," Rachel said, pouring the disastrous batter into a frying pan and watching it sizzle.

"No, you'd totally be welcome. We always have the whole family over for holidays, the house gets crazy. You'd blend right in."

"Maybe." Rachel smiled quietly and handed a spatula to Landon, who lifted a single pancake and peeked suspiciously at its underside.

"Trust me," Same continued. "You'd love it. Nothing like a Bartowski holiday party."

The three continued to cook their uneven pancakes, and Rachel scrambled a few eggs. When everything was done, they gathered around the giant television with their plates.

"What do we show her?" Sam asked her brother, pointing the remote at the TV.

"Uhhh…. Something with superheroes."

"That narrows it down…"

"Oh! _Suicide Squad_! The first one. It's a classic," Landon said, sitting up so quickly that he almost knocked his plate off of his lap.

"Perfect!"

" _Suicide Squad_? Sounds like a dark movie," Rachel said, taking a bit of her undercooked pancakes.

"It's, well…Sorta. But it's so cool! The bad guys are the heroes," Sam explained, queuing up the movie and scrambling to take a seat next to Rachel on the couch. "I think you'll like Deadshot."

"Why's that?"

"Because he's a total badass with guns, like you!"

Rachel laughed, recalling the dumbfounded look Sam had given her when she'd taken the kids back to the gun range two days ago. She and Cole had given them a tutorial on gun safety and maintenance and then let them practice on the range for a few hours.

"You aren't too bad yourself," Rachel said, elbowing Sam in the ribs and laughing when she squirmed away.

"I thank you," she replied, stuffing an entire pancake into her mouth as the movie began. Rachel smiled and settled against the couch cushions. It had been a long time since she'd allowed herself to relax like this. It had been a long time since she'd had anyone that she wanted to relax with like this. A long time since she could truly call anyone her friend. But the Bartowski kids made it easy to feel comfortable. Rachel knew it wasn't wise to let an assignment get personal. And maybe….in that respect, the Bartowski kids made it hard too.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Until next time..._


End file.
